


Untangling the knots

by ESH_es



Series: Two sides of paradise [2]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Brothers, Drama, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Minor Violence, Organized Crime, Past Abuse, Past Drug Addiction, Russia, Therapy, Threats of Violence, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:55:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 68,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25915444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ESH_es/pseuds/ESH_es
Summary: After Eve has nearly magically arisen from the dead after being hidden in Russia, Lucifer's twin Michael shows up in New York and puts Lucifer and Chloe in front of so many - too many - questions.What does he want? What has it to do with Eve? And how the fuck can he stay so calm with a gun pointed to his head?
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar, Trixie Espinoza & Lucifer Morningstar
Series: Two sides of paradise [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1829833
Comments: 314
Kudos: 225





	1. Sodding Michael!

**Author's Note:**

> hello peeps! 
> 
> and welcome back to the "Two sides of paradise" -series XD
> 
> If you are new here - it would help you tremendously if you went back and read "Eden's playground" as the first part of this series!
> 
> I have a playlist for [ "Two sides of paradise" ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7xmj9bc0NXeI2K2AhR5EqJ?si=oMTTfTg8S9eC4qBUjHBcbQ) now! 
> 
> If you want me to stop rambling, because you want to get over the cliffhanger in the first story - give me a sec to remind you of a few things! XD
> 
> 1) This is a little shorter than the part before - beware!  
> 2) Updates are on what is to me Wednesday and Saturday!  
> 3) Big shoutout to my Beta [ kitlyn_221B ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitlyn_221B/pseuds/kitlyn_221B) who is just the best little nugget! 
> 
> 4) The idea that I wanted to include Michael sparked in May, so this is by no means Season 5 trailer oriented! I think this Michael is going to be quite different from the one the show will present us! 
> 
> 5) Check your privilege you peeps! Black lives matter! Brown lives matter! Indigenous lives matter! People of colour's lives matter! Support BBIPoC! Sign petitions! Go vote! Speak up! Educate yourselves! Pay BBIPoC! - just do your part. This isn't a moment, it's a movement! This concerns all of us!
> 
> 6) if you wanna know more about updates or else or you just wanna chat with me: I am on instagram @esh_es_writes !  
> (if there is anything you wanna discuss with me/tell me and you don't wanna do it in the comments/you don't have IG, just tell me in the comments, I will leave you my email address!)
> 
> 7) For those of you who do not want to read explicit sexual content: I will put three asterixes (***) at the beginning and ending of a smut scene so you can just skip over it. Anything important happening in said scene will be covered in the end notes of the chapter! 
> 
> I am done! I am done! jeez... here you go peeps XD <3

_“A penny for your thoughts?”, he hummed against her, the fabric of his dress shirt brushing against her skin._

_“Mh”, she made, nestling into his embrace,” I’m just happy.”_

_She heard him smile as he sighed, “Me too.”_

_They had finally finished, Trixie darting off to ask the young woman whether she could pet her golden retriever. Not only hers, but also Lucifer’s gaze stuck on the two of them, narrowed in suspicion as they moved out on the sidewalk, for the dog to jump around them and to lick Trixie’s hands as she squealed in delight. The tension bled out of her partners muscles._

_“You do like her, admit it”, she chuckled as she put her head into her neck to kiss him._

_He answered her lips readily, melting into her as he murmured, “Don’t tell her though.”_

_They paid – well, he paid and it was also him, who helped her into her jacket, eventually taking her hand in his as they moved outside. Trixie waited for them dutifully in one of the seats, chatting to someone. She cocked her head. Where was the dog?_

_The warm, big hand slipped out of hers, into in her pocket. The person her daughter was talking to turned. Blood froze in her veins as her jacket felt lighter._

_Lucifer stood, weapon drawn and raised at the man’s head, figure taut and still. Precise. His finger lay on the trigger, pressing in deep enough to have clicked off its safety._

_“Step away from her”, never had she heard him like this. Steely, commanding. Dangerous._

_What?, she mouthed, petrified in her tracks as the scene that unfolded in front of her eyes and the shocked surroundings, the horrified exclaims bled out of focus. Lucifer faced his mirror image, tense lines and deadly calm features aside from the fire that raged in his eyes. One hand held her Glock, lifted to the man’s head. Not center mass. A shot would be lethal from this distance._

_“Beatrice, come here. Now”, he ordered. Her daughter scurried towards him, gaze wide and terrified as she stumbled towards him. His other hand pushed her behind him as he moved barely discernably, his body shielding hers. Someone screamed for the cops and only then Chloe managed to raise her voice and tell them that she was the cops!_

_Her eyes never left the men in front of her._

_“Hello, Sam”, the one said._

_“Fuck off, Michael”, Lucifer retorted sharply._

_\---_

“Now, now is all of this real really necessary?”, the man who looked so much like her partner sighed, brushing off his sleeves, hands hugged tightly by black leather gloves.

Chloe’s brain couldn’t catch up with what she was seeing. He looked like Lucifer, sounded like Lucifer, only that the _real_ Lucifer stood in front of her daughter, stance wide and distributed evenly, arm still raised and the hand that held her gun not even shaking. He radiated a power, calm before a storm, lurking and waiting.

“I said _step away_ ”, he commanded, soft and dangerous. A shudder ran along her spine.

“Would you lower the gun, Sam?”, the man, his fucking twin, continued as if he hadn’t heard him, “You’re making the crowd quite antsy, don’t you think?”

Chloe’s gaze assessed their situation, eyes sat wide open and fearful in pale faces, phones were lifted to ears, nervous bubbling filled the air as the atmosphere sung with tension.

“Lucifer”, she said gently, lifting her hands up, palms open, “lower the gun.”

He shook his head barely visible as he denied her but pushed her daughter into her direction.

“Listen to the lady, Sam”, Lucifer – no, Michael – agreed, “We don’t have to cause a scene. I don’t have one on me either, see?”

He lifted the back of his jacket, denim on a black shirt, as he turned around in a circle, holding up his arms in surrender. The gun in Lucifer’s hand didn’t waver as his finger tightened barely perceptibly.

“We both know that you don’t need a gun to kill me.”

“True”, the man agreed easily, with the same nonchalance that Lucifer normally sported, “But neither do you.”

If she hadn’t been busy with damage control, her blood would’ve frozen inside her veins, but she was swimming in a veil of denial that told her this couldn’t be real.

His gaze was still as he finally lifted his finger enough to click the safety back on and in a fluid motion held the handle of her Glock in front of her nose, his eyes never leaving his brother. Her hand was clammy as she took it from him.

“Correct. And I promise you, Michael, I _will_ kill you, if you step any closer.”

Chloe could see those brown eyes – yet not _his_ – that had gazed into her a hundred times with love and adoration, flicker in nervous succession, even if his shoulders relaxed a little.

“I just want to talk, Sam”, he tried to reason, while Lucifer looked like he was ready to lunge.

Chloe’s hand softly came to rest on the small of his back, tight muscle underneath her fingers, while she maneuvered Trixie behind her.

She could feel him flinch, eyes flickering towards her as if in panic as she stepped forward, nudging his taut body towards her daughter, that clutched at her hand in terror.

“Detective”, he hissed; her gaze plead with him and the hard planes of his figure gave way.

“I am Detective Decker from the NYPD”, she began, voice cool and asserting her authority. Dark eyes glittered with something akin to amusement.

“I have understood that my partner clearly has assessed you as a threat. I politely ask you to leave.”

“Is that so?”, accent rolled in waves, so much like Lucifer’s of his lips, “I am impressed, Sammy. How did you wind up with one like her?”

An outright snarl vibrated in the tense air behind her. She could not have Lucifer lose his cool.

“Michael Johnson, by the way. It’s a pleasure.”

She regarded the outstretched hand with disdain.

“I _swear_ –“

“Sir”, her shoulders straightened, “If you do not step away, I can assure you, this will have consequences.”

“Oh, come now –“

Laugh bubbled up in hysteric waves inside her as he used the very same words Lucifer had when they had first met. He had pissed her off and annoyed her to the very same extent and was now trembling with rage behind her.

“Step _off_.” She repeated, hand gripping her gun tighter as she moved it into his direction, only to be pulled a step back by Lucifer.

“I’m scared. Can we go home now?”, everything fell away at her daughter’s terrified whimper, wet and high pitched.

From the corner of her eye she saw her clutching to Lucifer’s leg, wet face hidden in the fabric of his slacks. Tiny hands held onto them, knuckles white. Her heart bled anger and pain and she wanted nothing more than to wrap her up and keep her safe.

The tense body behind her turned, because she would not let her gaze stray from the man in front of her. The shadows underneath his eyes left worse bruises than Lucifer’s ever had since she’d come to know him. His stubble had grown into something she only saw from her partner when he’d had a particularly rough week. His features bordered to gaunt, while his body rose broad and tall and hunched from the ground.

“Alright. It’s alright, urchin”, she heard his deep voice try to soothe her daughter – she loved him so much, she could’ve wept – “We’re going home, it’s alright.”

He pushed past Chloe, softly brushing her shoulder and nudged her daughter into her side. She wanted the ask, _what the hell he was thinking_ , but her mouth gaped speechlessly, while her arm came protectively around her Monkey, who shook against her hip.

With a few swift steps he moved into his lookalike’s face, voice guttural. Instead of flinching back the other just stared into his eyes almost provocatively.

“You come after me or my family, I’ll break every single bone in your bloody body. One after another. Slowly. Agonizingly. _Understood_?”

“Oh, _family_ ”, Michael teased, “Moved on that quickly, have we, Sam?”

Faster than Chloe could perceive he had fisted the front of his collar, pulling tight.

“I _asked_ whether you’ve _understood.”_

“Yes”, almost annoyed the word dripped from the other’s tongue as he regarded his brother.

“Who else is here besides you?”

“No one.”

“I don’t believe you”, Lucifer’s voice burned like venom, “Who else knows about my whereabouts?”

“No one.”

“I _do not believe_ you”, he bit out.

“I _swear_ , Samael”, Michael growled, “I swear on my rank between heaven’s soldiers. No one has followed or accompanied me. No one knows about you. I _will not_ harm you or yours. I swear.”

As if searching for truth in his brother’s gaze Lucifer’s eyes roamed over his face, before his fingers opened, let go of his collar and with a few steps he was at Chloe’s side.

“Let’s go”, he murmured in her ear, hurried and urgent as he led her firmly away, the other hand coming down onto the back of Trixie’s head. In a sudden sense of gut wrenching fear her arms dipped and lifted her daughter into her arms, holding on to her tightly as they went.

Only when they were in the subway, her lap full of a shaking and traumatized child, she pulled out her phone.

“What are you doing?”, Lucifer murmured in front of her, his eyes flickered nervously from one side to another. His body loomed as if to shield hers, still tense and vigilant.

“Calling my superior”, she snapped back as her hand cradled Trixie’s head, humming a soothing melody. It rang on the other end of the line, enough for her nerves to sing as they vibrated from being coiled tight.

It was telling that his dark eyes didn’t glimmer with hurt at her tone as he only nodded and shifted back into the same protective and ready stance he had taken on before. One of his hands gripped the rail above her, while the other’s fingertips brushed along her child’s back as if to reassure her.

Only when she told her Lieutenant Wesley the story as if dragged underneath the surface by a current that she couldn’t escape, the events morphed into reality inside her head. Lucifer had a twin brother, whom he had just threatened to kill with her off duty Glock. She hadn’t even known Lucifer could handle a gun. But she should’ve known.

_Any shots fired?_ , her superior wanted to know.

_No,_ she told him and asked whether there was anything they could do against a Michael Johnson. Could they press for a restraining order?

_Evidence?_ , she mouthed towards Lucifer, who she was sure off had intently listened to every word that had been spoken.

He shook his head no, features still set in cold stone.

_Come in as soon as possible for a report._

Her hands trembled as she raked them through her hair, still rubbing Trixie’s back. Her little girl had finally calmed enough to breathe evenly as she nestled her face in the crook of Chloe’s neck.

Russet eyes found hers, serious and concerned, and she swallowed.

_You come after me or my family, I’ll break every single bone in your bloody body._

She shuddered and he tilted his head as the worry in his gaze surged. He had admitted being able to kill someone with his bare hands. And he would’ve killed if he had deemed it necessary to protect her and Trixie. _His family_. She wanted her brain to catch on that, but instead it replayed the way his finger had tightened on the trigger, ready to shoot his brother in the head. His twin brother. He would’ve killed someone who wore his face, had the same DNA.

_I swear on my rank between heaven’s soldiers_.

Scars, marred where flesh had been torn open, where marks had been cut off his body by no one else but himself. The extent of what he capable of hit her like a freight train.

_I did things that I’m not proud of. Horrific things._

There had been fear in his eyes, burning anger. But what scared her the most was the bone deep determination in his features as he had aimed. Killing another human being took everything out of you, even if done to protect someone else or oneself in the line of duty. She remembered the first time it had been a bullet from her gun that had sent the man they been following over the edge. He had been guilty. He had killed, had wounded her partner back then, had threatened to take her out. And she had killed him. She had killed him and wept for days as guilt ate her alive. It had been Dan, who had held her, telling her that yes, it sucked and yes, it was painful and probably one of the hardest things to deal with on the job. But she had protected herself and the people around her.

She looked up into his eyes as she held Trixie tighter and sought the same man in them that had trained her gun at a person. She found him in them. Between warmth and concern and his flickering gaze she found the same determination, the same conviction she had seen before. It was his _brother_.

“Would you-“, her voice broke as she looked at him, “would you’ve done it?”

Her voice was barely loud enough for him to grasp over the chatter of the subway.

“Chloe”, her name held no regret, nothing but something big and all-encompassing as his vocal cords vibrated,” I find myself ready to go impossible lengths to keep you and Beatrice safe.”

The fingers that had caressed her daughter’s back came up to brush her cheek in a promise.

“I will not let harm come upon you. Especially not in form of that bastard that calls himself my twin.”

His gaze held hers as she closed her eyes, reveling in his gentle touch.

“Okay”, she whispered and with that she accepted, because as much as she abhorred killing she would do it without hesitation if it meant protecting her daughter. The latter was in her arms and she was safe and alive. Trying to gather her thoughts and regain control over them, she took a deep breath.

“So, I’ll get back to the apartment and call Kelsey whether she’s free that afternoon, so I can go to the precinct and file my report to get this over and done with.”

“I’d rather you stay with me”, Lucifer said and she shook her head.

“No. Trixie has school on Monday and you have no place for her to sleep. I can’t just uproot her life, Lucifer. Right now, what she needs is a semblance of a routine.”

“Alright, I’ll stay with you then.”

He had made up his mind about it, she knew. A hint of fondness played with her sigh.

“Lucifer, I know, you’re worried, but I am a trained police officer. I can handle it.”

He nodded seriously down at her, pressing himself closer to her as someone shoved past him.

“I know, you can. But I can’t.”

A guffaw escaped her. He could break someone’s neck, but couldn’t be separated from her?

“You’re serious?”, she asked as she stared. Heavens, Trix was getting heavy. Her leg was crawling with invisible ants.

“Very. I told you already, Detective. I couldn’t bear losing someone else, whom I care about…”, he trailed off, blood draining from his face.

“Oh, bloody hell”, he snarked as his hands searched for his phone, “sodding Michael.”

She watched him lift his phone to his ear, eyes praying to the ceiling for connection as he waited.

“Eve? Michael is here.”


	2. How do you stay safe from an "Archangel"?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emergency meeting and Chloe is slightly overwhelmed by the situation

Chloe’s temples brimmed with unresolved tension that had her head throbbing. Her flat was definitely not big enough to hold the conference of people that had currently taken her living room hostage. Lucifer leaned against the counter, arms crossed over his chest, while Maze was pacing up and down the wall that held their family pictures, fingers restlessly playing with a short black flower-stick. Eve looked delicate, even with legs folded underneath her on the couch, hands squishing her throw cushion. Trixie sat next to her, Miss Alien in her lap. This was no place to be for her eight year old, she knew, but on her plead for her to play in her room she had started bawling and clinging to her partner’s leg. Despite the readiness to end another’s life for her daughter, he was clearly unable to handle her snot on his slacks as he had pried her off his leg with a look of sheer horror on his face and decided she could stay.

“Michael? Like your twin Michael?”, Eve asked.

“Yes, the very same”, he nodded a dark look on his face.

“Looked just like Lucifer”, Trixie agreed with a serious nod and Chloe had it.

“Alright. Monkey”, her voice was dangerously high,” Why don’t you watch a video on Mommy’s phone? You can even sit next to Lucifer.”

She threw him a dark look as he stared at her like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Detective”, he began, but snapped his mouth shut at her glare. He had brought this onto himself.

“Okay. But can I watch Kung Fu Panda?”

“Good choice”, Maze agreed with a grin, “the fight scenes are bomb.”

“Right?”, Trixie’s eyes lit up in excitement, “Tigress is _the_ coolest.”

“ _Right_ ”, Chloe cut in, her fingers massaging her temples, “I’ll get you the headphones and then you can sit on one of the barstools, okay?”

She barely dodged the flower-stick that Maze twirled between her fingers.

“ _Will_ _you stop fiddling_ with this - this”, she gestured, “thing.”

“Why?”, the dark woman cocked her head, “Lucifer said I couldn’t bring my knives, so…”

She blinked and blinked again. Her gaze flickered to Lucifer, who held his palms up in innocence as he mouthed a _What? Don’t blame me._

She took a deep breath and another one, before she nodded, whispering a quiet, “Alright.”

She went – deliberately slow – to retrieve said earphones and searched for Disney + on her phone. She was so in over her head. It felt like an eternity since she’d been woken up by Trixie jumping up and down on Lucifer’s soft sheets and since she had teased him for needing ages in the bathroom. Releasing a shaky exhale, she straightened her shoulders. Right. Back to it.

With Trixie finally seated and quiet she decided to take the lead as she positioned herself next to Lucifer.

“Okay. Someone get me up to date. Michael Johnson is Lucifer’s twin brother, soldier of Caelum. Right. So, what else? What was he? What – like was he and enforcer like you?”, she turned towards the man.

He shook his head, “No, Michael is one of the four commanders over Caelum’s soldiers. The only person more powerful than him is, well”, he grimaced, “God.”

“Alright, so your father communicates directly with Michael and Michael in turn all the other members of Caelum?”

“Yes.”

“And he is a danger.”

Lucifer barked a hollow laugh at that, eyes like burnt steel.

“You see”, Eve spoke up, “Even though Michael is just a commander and oversees the ones that do harm, he is very, very capable.”

Something haunted swam in Lucifer’s gaze as he nodded.

“He is by no means a kitten with claws.”

Chloe still didn’t understand and her annoyance grew steadily as no one would tell her what was going on. Why couldn’t Lucifer simply tell her what was going on?

“But he is your twin brother”, she finally managed to say.

“My twin brother who most likely was the person to give the order to kill my girlfriend.”

Oh. Her eyes flickered to Eve, who was staring at one of the throw cushions as if lost in time and memories. _Oh_. Silence hung upon them, thick and pregnant.

“And let’s not forget that it is incredibly detrimental for Caelum for Lucifer to be still alive”, Maze was still pacing, “They would want either to shut him up one way or another – by threatening you, his life that he has built in New York – or to kill him. Is easier.”

_Or to kill him. Is easier._

Blood froze in her veins, her hand reaching out for him, because she couldn’t lose him. She wouldn’t lose him. His fingers intertwined with hers as he gripped tightly onto her. She understood. Lucifer knew how Caelum worked. He knew the little things that supported the crime syndicates structure. But she couldn’t understand how one would do this to family. Warm his palm pressed against hers and soothingly his thumb brushed circles onto her skin.

“I will not let harm come upon the two of you, love”, he murmured softly, “I promise.”

She looked at him and squeezed his hand tighter, “But what about you?” Her voice was barely above a breath, all to conscious of the two other women in the room.

The corner of his mouth tugged upwards as if amused and touched by her concern.

“I can handle myself quite well, Detective. You forget that I’ve known Michael since I was born. It would be nothing more than a spat between brothers for me. You on the other hand”, he frowned in irritation, “bringing you and the offspring into this is inacceptable.”

Her lips curled into a smile at his words, because even if they both could take care of themselves, they would not let the other face this without back up. That’s what partners did after all. He gazed down at her, warm and oh so loving that her heart could’ve burst out of her chest. Gently he pulled her closer to him to press a kiss to her pulsing temples and she melted into it.

“That’s all disgustingly cute and all, but can we focus on the more pressing issues? Like the whole, Michael is here?”

“Yes right”, Lucifer cleared his throat awkwardly and took a step back, without letting go of his hand, “I will stay with Chloe and the child until I think it’s safe for them to stay alone or I know what Michael has planned. Eve”, her head perked up, dark curls flowing, “with whom are you staying? Is there any way we can provide you protection?”

“I mean”, Eve frowned while her fingers relentlessly fiddled with the fringes of her pillow. The poor thing. The pillow, mind you.

“I am staying with Leia, but you know, does he even know I am alive? Or-“

Leia? Michaelnova?

_But I mean – not that St. Petersburg isn’t huge in itself…_

“We cannot take any chances”, he said intently, voice deep and gentle, “Maze…”

His eyes plead her as the woman looked at him, dark gaze on him, barely softening before she gave him a little nod.

“I could stay with her, but that would mean she needs to move into your apartment.”

“What?”, Eve had scrambled to her legs, “I can’t just leave her alone in that apartment! She has to pay the rent somehow and –“

Lucifer let go of Chloe’s hand as she heard him swallow.

“Eve”, he interrupted her ramble as he stepped forward, “Eve”, his hands came to rest on her upper arms, “I understand but I _need_ you to be safe. I”, his voice trembled, “I lost you already. And – _please._ Don’t let me lose you again. I beg you.”

Her wide eyes looked up at him, swimming and recalling forgone times.

“Okay”, she whispered into the room, soft and understanding. Chloe abhorred the jealousy that clawed its way along her throat at how _loving_ she sounded.

Swallowing down the hurt that rose in her, her fingers played with one of the little bead figure Trixie had crafted last year. Maze’s assurance that she could pull some strings and make some calls to arrange another roommate for Leia flew past her head as did whatever else they talked about. Her eyes lingered on her daughter that sat, mouth slightly agape as she stared at her phone. She needed to keep her safe. Whatever it took. Mentally she made a note to talk about a codeword for her and Lucifer. Why didn’t he ever think about mentioning a twin brother?

Her head was still spinning with questions and her fingers checked twice whether every door was locked and every window tightly closed. When she slipped under the covers to hug her pillow tight, she released a trembling breath as she willed her thoughts to slow down. All of this was a mess. Just this morning she could have burst with happiness, swimming weightless amongst clouds before the skies had come crashing down. She didn’t even know what the next step was but neither did Lucifer. All they did now was wait like prey cornered by a predator, shaking and afraid. Because Lucifer had been afraid. Her mind replayed the strength he had radiated, the power and skill that had itched and begged to be released while he restrained himself. And even though it scared the hell out of her that the man who held and loved her so delicately was capable and willing to inflict pain and torture, the tightness in her chest eased as he would do it to protect her and her daughter. The way he had placed himself in front of Trixie had been telling as was the fact that he had done what he could to reassure her and even though he sometimes seemed at his wit’s end of how to act around children he had tried to convey comfort with timid and gentle touches.

The mattress next to her dipped as he came to bed and pulled her into him. It seemed as could he finally release a breath after being high strung as he turned towards her.

“Detective?”, he murmured, quietly as if only to check whether she was still awake.

“Mhm?”, she made as she felt his hand on her back, warmth seeping through the fabric of her shirt deep into her bones. A soft sigh escaped him before he wiggled under the blanket and nestled himself against her back. His body was broad and warm above hers, like a heavy blanket to keep her safe. She hummed contently as she felt him breathe against her hair and he squeezed her tighter to him.

“Are you okay?”, he asked then, breaking the silence between them. Her heart beat heavily as she felt the dread of the day tearing them down. She shifted in his arms to look at him. Her eyes sought out his in the dim light of the bedroom lamp.

“Are _you_ okay?”, she asked, even though she knew he wasn’t.

With a bone deep exhale he shuddered against her and shook his head.

“I don’t think so, no.”

Her chest contracted painfully at the admission. Her hands slipped up for her to draw them through his hair and he leaned into her touch as if it meant salvation.

“When’s your next therapy session?”

Her voice was soft and gentle and he closed his eyes.

“I’ll reschedule for tomorrow”, he murmured.

“Okay”, she whispered back, pressing a kiss to his forehead. She secretly swelled with pride, because she knew that his brother being back, someone of his family knowing where he was, brought a past pain to the surface that she couldn’t even comprehend.

“Let’s go to sleep, Satan”, she gently teased him and a smile of relief spread on her face as he huffed out a laugh.

She turned back in his embrace for him to hug her tightly to his body. It felt warm and familiar and safe and she felt herself drifting to sleep in his arms, knowing they would try their damned hardest to keep each other safe.


	3. Game plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe's partner has her back and Lucifer goes to therapy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good Morning peeps!
> 
> (she says with 3 hrs of sleep because she binged 6 episodes of Season 5 until they wouldn't load anymore - thank you Europe and streaming XD and got up early to watch the rest)
> 
> A new chapter for you, a little more action than in the last one - the next one is one of my favourites though! 
> 
> PLEASE DON'T SPOILER SEASON 5 IN THE COMMENTS! even though I have seen it that doesn't mean others have! we wanna keep things safe and spoiler free here.

Maria was hovering as she arrived at the precinct on Monday, dark eyes squinting at her in concern, before she was pulled by her arm into the corner of the empty break room. 

“Are the rumors true?”, the words were husky as ever as if carried through the smoke that nestled inside her lungs. Before Chloe could ask her to elaborate what exactly she meant, she had continued, “That an asshole stole your gun and threatened somebody with it?”

“Uhm”, she made overwhelmed as she lifted her hands placatingly, “Yes, we had a little bit of a situation on the weekend, but it’s all fine. It’s just…”

Biting her lip she considered, but her partner was having none of that.

“Whatever it is, spill it.” 

“You’ve been talking too much to Ella”, Chloe rolled her eyes. 

  
“Who cares?”, she grumbled, “Stop changing the topic. What’s wrong? Maybe I can do something – help?”

The fact that she cared warmed her from the inside out. 

“Look, it’s just – a member of Lucifer’s family arrived in New York and took us by surprise as he showed up. They haven’t parted on good terms, so he got … a bit protective”, she finished lamely. 

“Aha”, Maria gave her one of her stern _stop shitting me-_ looks, “I would really like to go deeper into this, but we have a case. Do I need to arrest somebody though?”

“Not yet”, the words were out of Chloe’s mouth before she could stop them and she cringed inwardly, because great. 

Her partner’s mouth gaped open, before she shook herself out of her daze, “ _Not yet? –_ What’s that supposed to mean, Decker?”

What had Ella said all those months back in something Klingon? _The king is trapp_ ed?

Chloe gestured, searching for words she didn’t have. A finger tightening on a trigger, gloved hands raised in the air. 

“I suppose Lucifer hasn’t hurt him yet and neither has his brother? I mean, I’m not sure whether they did something to incriminate themselves _before_ , but –“

Dark brows furrowed in a tan face, before she rolled her eyes. 

“That was absolutely unhelpful.”

“I am aware”, she groaned, hand coming up to rub the bridge of her nose, “but really, I don’t have a head for this right now, Maria. Can we discuss this later over lunch?”

Maria’s eyes regarded her for a long second, concerned and grim, before her features softened. 

“Yeah, sure. Let’s do that.”

“Okay, great. “, a pause, “But can we go to Andy’s? I could really use some comfort food.”

Maria snorted, “Sure. Why am I not surprised?” 

The faintest hint of a grin played with her lips. “Let’s go investigate a murder. I mean he’s not getting any less dead, but…”

“Let’s go”, her partner agreed for them to head out. 

They had just finished the check in with Fred in forensics as they stepped out of the precinct into the warmth of summer. Chloe’s skin longed to be stretched out on a towel on the beach, soaking up the rays like a cat laying in the sun. Maria was still putting down her notes on the stabbing in her phone, a cigarette dangling from her fingers in a leisurely fashion not even Lucifer could pull off. 

“So”, she spoke up as she let it disappear in her pocket, “What’s up now, Decker? Your life has suddenly become interesting since your devil showed up.” 

Chloe snorted. That was the underestimation of the year. Even though she could see that Lucifer longed for nothing more than normality, waking up with her, work a few drinks, playing the piano and monopoly and finally get Trixie to bed for them to enjoy some time alone. Her lower abdomen tingled at the promise of alone time. She shook her head. Neither the time nor the place. 

“Pretty much. Since Eve came back-”

“The long lost, dead Eve?”

“Yes, that Eve. Since she’s been back everything feels like it’s been turned upside down. And now we have Michael, Lucifer’s brother that he seems genuinely afraid of showing up. He said he wants to talk. He didn’t even seem surprised at the welcome.”

“You mean the gun barrel directed to his head?”

“Yeah”, she snorted. This was her life now. Great.

She filled her in as they walked to the restaurant, Maria intently listening only throwing in questions when she needed a clarification. The bell rung happily as it welcomed her back in and even though the room was buzzing with people’s laughter and the clattering of cutlery, she saw Andy’s face lit up as she arrived. Maria confidently strode towards one of the still empty tables and let herself fall onto them. Chloe slipped in the seat next to her and watched her partner as she digested the information she had been given. 

“So Michael is like his evil twin brother? And how has he even-“

“Decker!”, Andy waddled towards their table, round face bright with joy, “Long time no see!”

“Yeah. Learned to cook my own lunch in the meanwhile”, she smiled apologetically. 

His twinkling gaze fell on Maria that he greeted no less gleefully, “Nice to see you again, Miss Ramirez. Tall, dark and handsome, Decker, you’ve got a type?”

Maria snickered in the seat next to her. 

“She’s definitely got one.”

“Oh, I see”, Andy smirked, all white teeth, “your ‘friend’ still around?” 

Feeling herself blush, she could only nod, “Yes, still very much around.” 

“I see”, the satisfied grin on his face had her shaking her head, “Right, but let me just quickly take your orders it’s crazy today.”

“I can see that. But Chicken Alfredo for me and a sparkling water.” 

“The usual”, he concluded, quickly noted down her partner’s pizza and had disappeared back in the kitchen faster than she could have blinked.

Maria leaned forwards, bracing herself on her forearm, her forehead crinkled as she thought.

“Alright. Back to evil twin brother. Can you press for a restraining order? Or is there anything we can track back to him to have him arrested? Or at least kicked back to the UK?”

Chloe shook her head, biting her lip, “I mean he hasn’t done anything yet – we can’t just tell the judge to send him back to the UK for nothing.”

“True”, Maria sighed, her fingers playing with her lighter in a way Lucifer often did, „That wouldn’t hold in court. Like at all.”

“But even if we did have something, I don’t know whether it would be effective”, Chloe swallowed, desperately wishing for a glass of water. It was warm outside – even if it’d got nothing on LA – and her throat was parched.

“What do you mean?”

She bit her lip, “Michael’s and Lucifer’s family have a lot of money, a lot of influence and power. I sincerely doubt that he would be held even if we had some rock solid evidence.”

“But what if we find something that’s incriminating enough.”

“Maria you have seen murderer’s run free after someone paid their bail. You’ve seen”, she lowered her voice, “You have seen the boys in blue walk away from shit like they rule the whole country. A crime syndicate just wouldn’t care.”

Her partner’s jaw clenched, curls falling into her angry and frustrated dark gaze.

“I know. But… will you at least try and prod?”, Chloe where the desperation came from, even if she might never fully understand it. She and her peers had lost enough of their families to people like Michael. White, entitled assholes that thought they were above the law and got away with it.

„I would have to ask Lucifer whether there was anything, but he hasn’t reacted to that topic all too well.” 

“I can imagine.” 

“I mean, I’ll ask him if he knows _something_ we can use, but we’ll have to see. I have the feeling that he’s a pro.” 

“Whatever he is”, Maria’s eyes were dark and earnest, lashes a thick crown lining and determination burning in them, “we’ll get him. I got your back, partner.”

* * *

His leg was jumping up and down in a nervous succession. He hated the way his chest felt tight and the way his skin brimmed with suspicion and worry. His fingers itched to play with each other, but he willed them to be calm. The doctor released a sigh.

“Lucifer”, she started, pen thudding softly against the paper of her notebook, “from the fact that you’ve scheduled an emergency session and the way you’re behaving I can tell that something is bothering you.”

The inside of his lip must been bitten raw as he looked up at her. He nodded to himself because this was what he was here for after all.

“My twin brother is here”, he ground out, carefully leaning forward as if hunched into himself. Something tried to burst out of his skin as his insides twisted and turned. His eyes flickered up to the clock. The urchin had one more hour before school ended.

“Your twin brother”, the doctor tried to pull his attention back to her but he couldn’t help but want to check his phone.

“Yes”, he eventually said.

“And how did that go down?”

He took a breath and shoved unwelcomed pictures away from his inner eye. Crawling beneath the low bushes and waiting to catch fish with his twin as they were younger. Bellowed insults across hallways and slamming doors. A familiar face pushing through a drug induced haze. Breaking bones underneath his hands. A bloodied face grinning weakly up at him as his hands cupped it as if scared to break it. Twinkling eyes that had transformed into cold glares and even harsher insults.

“I kinda held a gun to his head”, he admitted a little sheepishly as if to be scolded by his mother.

“Oh?”, his therapist said, eyebrows raised in a suggestive manner, urging him to give her a little more.

“See, I was out with Chloe and the urchin for brunch and while we paid Beatrice waited outside and when we got there that bastard stood there and –“

He gestured as his voice failed him. He had lost it. Something primal had reared its head at the thought of his brother hurting the child, the urge to eliminate the potential threat had torn him back into the days of his past, training internalized and executed before he had understood what had happened.

“And you felt the need the urge to protect her”, the woman in front of him concluded, her thick rimmed glasses shimmering in the light.

He nodded again. “I might have snitched the Detective’s gun from her pocket and threatened to kill him.”

She looked at him and he continued, “She got between us and tried to talk him down, he was disgustingly unaggressive, no less taunting mind you. Beatrice got scared and well, I told him I would break his bones if he came after them, he swore by Dad’s legions that he wouldn’t and that’s that. We went home afterwards.”

He leaned back in an attempt to appear unbothered. The doctor nodded, her leg bouncing up and down as she regarded him.

“What does your brother want?”

“Sow destruction and chaos of course”, he scoffed.

“Has he told you that?”

“No, but-“

“What _does_ he want then?”

He glared at her, telling her that he bloody well saw through her game.

“He said he wanted to talk. Michael. Talk”, he snorted, “My arse.”

She made a nearly amused little sound as she looked at him, seeing right through him. He knew. He wasn’t a sodding idiot.

“That aside, how did meeting your twin brother make you feel?”

His hand came up to massage the bridge of his nose, something he had quickly taken on from the Detective. He did not like whatever was bubbling up in his chest.

“Angry”, he finally blurted out into the quietness of the room, “very fucking angry.”

“Why is that?”, she wanted to know, voice calm and gentle.

He took a breath to calm himself, clearly failing. His gaze flickered up to the watch again.

“Because”, he struggled to form proper words, “because he took Eve away from me. Because of him I thought I lost her and the _gall of him_ to come back here and to threaten my _family_ after all those years, after I’ve finally found some kind of – of”

“of home?”, she picked up a topic they’d left behind a few sessions ago.

“ _Yes_. I just-“, he swallowed, skin burning with suppressed aggression, “he was standing in front of her and he smirked and I just – I _lost_ it.”

The last words came out as a choked of whisper.

“Could it be that you were _scared_?”

He had been. He had felt terror in his life, more than enough of it, but seeing Michael in front of the urchin came a close second to losing Eve.

A shallow nod was all he managed along with a shaken, “Bloody terrified is what I was.”

“And why is that?”

Why wouldn’t she stop prodding?

“Because it’s”, his chest grew terribly tight, “it’s the _urchin_ , doctor. The detective can take care of herself, but if something was to happen to that child, I don’t”, his hand came up to massage his sternum.

“Is it because, despite all your claimed revulsion regarding children you’ve come to care about Beatrice? Have even grown to love her?”

“If you know it, why must you repeat it to me?”, he snapped, “Yes, I am bloody scared of losing them. All three of them. I know. I just don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to protect them.”

His therapist’s eyes were empathic. Understanding and a hint of satisfaction accompanied her nod. She bloody well knew how to crack him open for him to spill his problems.

“Maybe you should start with talking to your brother”, she suggested and he hated it already.


	4. St. Petersburg: 23rd of November 2011

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We travel back in time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning peeps! 
> 
> I just want to quickly say that the whole story of Lucifer and Chloe plays in 2016, so we just travel back roughly five years into the past.
> 
> gaspadin is the transcript of the Russian word господин meaning "sir".
> 
> well, I'll let you enjoy this one!

_ St. Petersburg: 23rd of November 2011 _

_The air stung like ice on his skin as he shoved his hands further into the thick fabric of his coat’s pockets. The slight tinge of water and freezing water filled the air. His steps long and hurried, he made his way through the streets, grey and cold. His face hid behind the scarf, while he let his gaze roam along the bridge, grey waters one with the fog that had enveloped the city. Proudly swimming in mist - drops of molten ice flickering in and out of focus like dew – Peter-and-Paul-Fortress stood, a monument of past times, peeking out behind the scraps of milky silk. A shudder ran along his spine as he thought of torture and confinement. Schooling his expression, he hurried along the street, mournful at the dismal weather that was no better than the one at home. He had checked the address twice by now, taxi abandoned as he knew he could be tracked. His jaw clenched and unclenched as he swallowed down nerves to push emotions underneath the surface of calm and unbothered. He sped up his pace, long feet eating up the ground as he blended in with mists and people as the cold gnawed at his skin._ _One could barely see further that the next three or four lanterns before the white vail swallowed them. The city was dim and lights were nothing more but orange spots in nowhere. It appeared like the world was drowning in white and forgetting. Oh, if he could only forget._

_He made his way through the city, the thud of his boots swallowed by the cold. While his pace was fast and confident, he staggered inside as he felt his heart desperately trying to accelerate, but he held the reigns tight, like a wild horse needing to be tamed. The fingers that were stuck in the leather of his gloves had grown cold and stiff as he slid into the little orifice of a doorway. Tattered the name glowed in its frame of ice and dirt. He nearly scoffed at the irony but pressed the button to inform the inhabitant of his arrival._

_It sounded shrill in his ears – who on earth would leave their window open at such temperatures? – then the door buzzed and welcomed him in as it gave way compliantly at his push. The wind fell away as if shut out as a small thunder echoed through the empty staircase. His nose scrunched in offense at the smell. But beggars couldn’t choose, he decided. Swiftly, as it was no warmer than outside, he made his way up the stairs. The building had been dipped into greyish light, before it was suddenly brightened by a golden rectangle in the bleak dawn, outlining the frame of a woman in it. Her hair fell in tresses of midnight while her slender figure seemed to shine like a heavenly angel. Another woman appeared next to her, ushering her back inside._

_“Please”, she said, syllables stoutly stumbling across her lips, “come in, gaspadin.”_

_“Thank you ever so much”, he smiled, all teeth and pretence to shrug off the cold that had followed him inside._

_The inside was warm and small and smelled like cabbage. The young woman, all pale and aristocratic features helped him out of his coat, while the other hung in the doorway to the living room and glowered at him._

_“Why are you here?”, she eventually snapped as they stared at each other._

_“Evja!”, the other admonished._

_“Oh, don’t”, she snarked, “You’re not the one that is being held hostage.”_

_“I’d hardly call this being held hostage”, he finally butted in, irritation crawling under his skin, “rather keeping you hidden in order to save your life.”_

_She brushed back coils as she readied herself for a retort._

_“Why don’t we have some tea?”, with an inviting gesture of her heavily adorned hand, silver creeping like vines along her fingers, she lead them further into the small living room._

_Time crept by in silence as the tea kettle sung of boiling water and the smell of a cheap Earl grey blend filled the room. He had pulled his gloves of, finger by finger and had them carefully bedded in his lap. His eyes had taken in the room with care, before they rested on the defiant woman in front of him._

_China came to rest with clinking in front of them._

_“I will leave you two”, the Russian woman’s gaze caught Evja’s and the latter nodded, before the fragile host left._

_He reached out to take a sip of the tea that had been offered and grimaced slightly at the bleak taste._

_“Not only the weather is tasteless”, he commented lightly to shake up the rough atmosphere._

_“Why are you here?”, she repeated, a little less aggressive, but no less steely this time._

_“Well”, his tongue flitted out to touch his lips as he leaned back, “to check on you.”_

_“So you can see whether I am still here?”_

_“No. To make sure you’re still in one piece.”_

_She snorted and stood up to pace. Her arms were wrapped around her middle as if to hold her tightly, while she remained wordless. His gaze followed her, concern rising in his chest._

_“I want to go back.”_

_Her sudden remark startled him in the quietness of the room. He shook his head._

_“I am afraid that is not possible. You would only put yourself in unnecessary danger. We have just gotten them to believe you dead. You showing up would not be very productive, would it?”_

_“Then-“, she gasped for air in tiny gulps as she tried to form words, “then I wanna see Sam. I wanna tell him I am alright.”_

_His muscles tensed as if she had struck him. His gut churned with apprehension._

_“I am afraid that, aside from the obvious, will not be possible.”_

_She was a clever one, he mused as her wide eyes narrowed to slits._

_“What do you mean?”, her voice was dangerously low, something she had learned from Sam, he was sure of it._

_There was no easy way to say it so he said it._

_“Samael is gone. He has disappeared shortly after the incident. It is as if the ground had opened up and swallowed him.”_

_Her pale face lost all the remaining colour as blood drained from her face._

_“What?”, her voice trembled with violent fears, “Is he…?”_

_He understood the question she was too afraid to voice._

_“We have not found his body. We assume he has taken on a new identity and left.”_

_“And you don’t know where to?”_

_“No”, it came across his lips in a concerned sigh that he regretted as soon as it is out in the air, “Samael is gone.”_


	5. You are going to do what now?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe does not like the conclusion Linda and Lucifer have come to

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning peeps! 
> 
> I have good news for you! - I might be able to pick up the pace of my updates again! o.O  
> I will let you know if now that my internship is over I can go back to updating daily or at least every second day! 
> 
> I'm sending so much love to you all!

An omelette was sizzling in the pan, while he leaned against the counter, keeping his gaze on it. 

“You’re going to do what now?”, she asked, hoping she had misunderstood him as her brows rose in speechless bafflement. 

He glanced up, dark eyes regarding her for a split second, before he looked down, his tongue flitting out in concentration as he flipped the omelette. She could see the way he was straightening his spine, trying his hardest to radiate an air of nonchalance that he didn’t possess.

“After brainstorming with Doctor Linda, I’ve come to the conclusion that I should confront Michael about his intentions. “

She drew in a deep breath, glaring at the ceiling, hoping some higher power would talk some sense into him. But no, of course he would rather jump headfirst into danger than to let the two of them figure this out together. Taking measured risks and all that. 

“And you know”, she began, “letting me gather some info on him, isn’t an option?”

She wanted it to sound teasing, but he shook his head having her words fall flat. 

“Detective, I appreciate you wanting to help me, but well, it’s Michael”, his posture tensed, “I think I need to do find out what he’s planning on my own.”

“But-“, she searched for something to say, “confronting him? He could hurt you – kill you even, Lucifer.” 

He placed the omelette on the plate as he turned off the stove, sending her a reassuring smile. 

“Love, I am hardly a helpless kitten. As my brother said, I could kill him too, should shit go sideways. He’s right with one thing for once in his life”, he added under his breath. 

She gaped at him, “That is – that is not very convincing. Come on, I can use my spare time to build a case and then we have at least something we use against him.” 

Lucifer shook his head, while his expression was both – loving and exasperate. 

“Detective, you have no idea how much I love your stubbornness, but this is something that you should leave as it is. I will get behind his scheme.”

She closed her eyes, her fingers gripping the bridge of her nose as the annoyance rose in her chest.

“There are other ways to find out what he’s planning!”

He lifted gaze from the eggs in his hands as he was about to put the unused ones back into the fridge. 

“I told you, love. I will get to the root of it, but I will not risk your or Beatrice’s safety.” 

She hated that he would be responsible and protective of her daughter in conversations like this – it was disarming to say the least, because she couldn’t argue with that, could she?

“You wouldn’t even bring Trixie into this! She won’t be here this summer!”

He halted, before he turned towards her, regarding her with confusion and slight alarm in his eyes. 

“I don’t follow”, his words stumbled slowly across his lips.

She sighed, a hint of guilt chasing after her confidence. She hadn’t told him about her decision.

“I talked to my Mom and to Dan. Trixie is going to stay with them in LA during the summer break. I mean, I’ve got to work and so do you and it is the perfect opportunity for her to spend time with her father. My Mom is going to come over and fly down with her.” 

He regarded her, something in his eyes that she couldn’t quite identify, something slightly panicked that didn’t quite make sense, before it disappeared behind a careful mask of indifference. 

“You are going to entrust the Douche with the urchin’s upbringing?” 

A groan escaped her throat as she rolled her eyes.

“He is still her Dad for God’s sake and he has taken care of her before, so yes, he is going to do _just_ fine.” 

He hummed and turned to fill up his glass. She stared at his tense back for a moment, before she said, a little more gentle now, “It’s the best option, you know?”

He just nodded, still not answering her as he occupied his hands with the task of cleaning the pan. 

“Look”, she continued, barely keeping her frustration at bay, “I am sorry that I haven’t told you sooner, but this was my decision and mine and Dan’s call to make. My Mom is coming over next week- the tickets are booked, so that’s that." 

She noticed the slight flinch and felt regret grip her muscles. 

“One less person to worry about”, he said, voice level as he finally turned around, grabbing cutlery on the way and put the plate in front of her. The clank sounded a little more forceful to her than it normally would.

She couldn’t avoid the little gape and the silent stutter that left her mouth. That was all he had to say to that? One less person to worry about? That was all Trixie meant to him? Disappointment settled low in her chest as she chided herself. She shouldn’t have expected differently. Just because her daughter was her top priority didn’t mean she was his too. It would’ve been too much to expect really. It wasn’t like they had been together for that long yet.

“Good to know that’s all she is to you. Something you need to think off every now and again.” It slipped out of her mouth anyway, stiffly and clipped. 

He paused in his movements, eyes narrowing in irritation. 

“You know that that is neither true nor what I meant, Detective.”

_I_ _sn’t it?_ This time she managed to keep her commentary to herself, as well as the snort that wanted to escape her.

„Mhm“, she made, unable to get the itching anger under control, „But you’re right.”

She ignored the way his eyebrows rose in the very fashion he always sported when he was waiting for someone to make a point.

“I am a detective, so I will do exactly what I am supposed to do. Investigate.”

His hands gripped the counter as he released a low breath of air, his body a taut line.

“How about you don’t do that?”

She could tell he was trying to speak calmly, but she’d had it. Who was he to tell her what to do?

“You can’t tell me what to do”, she bit out heatedly, temper rising higher and higher, “I can and I will.”

“ _Don’t_ ”, he looked up to meet her gaze, “ _don’t_ push me on this, Chloe.”

His dark eyes could’ve been aflame with anger as he glared at her, his neck bowed and tense as if he was expecting an attack every second now.

“I will push you on this!”, she raised her voice, more desperate than anything, “I am a police officer! You can’t expect me just to sit by when my family is danger. I will not idly put my legs up, just because you are being so goddamn stubborn!”

“Bloody _terrified_ is what I am!”, he snapped, loud, strained.

She paused, taken aback as she watched him close his eyes as if to compose himself, before tearing them open again for his irises to flicker from left to right and right to left. His jaw was almost painfully tight as his muscles jumped beneath his stubble.

“I am so close to jumping up and tearing him into pieces, because I don’t know what to do or how to keep you safe! So, if I say one less person to worry about then I mean it. It’s the best for the urchin to be as far away from here as she can get. This isn’t a bloody game to me. I could”, he swallowed hastily, “I could lose Eve. Again. I could lose _you_ or the urchin. Do you have any idea how horrifying that thought is?”

She could see his muscles straining under his shirt as he swallowed and she slid down of the bar stool to round the counter, a hand finding his forearm. He let go of the kitchen surface’s edge, that he had been gripping tightly enough for it to protest loudly, could it talk. His hands came up to rest on her upper arms and she exhaled a slow breath. Their warmth seeped through the fabric of her shirt.

“I ask you not to prod on this, not because I doubt your abilities, but because I don’t want you to get caught in the crossfire.”

She nodded, considering his words. He was scared, she got that and she hated that, but exactly this fear was ignoring all the possibilities they could have. Taking a step forward, she slung her arms around him. His heart beat heavily against his ribcage as he pulled her tightly against him.

He breathed her in, voice low as he murmured, “Please, Chloe. I just found you. We just got through the disaster with Eve. I can’t –“, he swallowed, “I don’t want to risk this. You. “

“We’ll get through this”, she whispered as she pressed a kiss to his chest, “Together, Lucifer.”

He nodded shallowly and took another calming breath as he held her a little tighter.

“I love you”, he said, his voice small.

The way her heart would open up at those three words would never get old.

“I love you, too”, she said, fingers caressing his lower back.

As they had finally come down from their high-strung emotions they sat in front of the TV, watching reruns of Brooklyn 99 as they waited for Anne to bring Trixie by. Lucifer did his best to distract himself by commenting on Terry’s _delectable behind_ or murmuring agreements at Jake’s daddy issues, while Chloe pointed out the inaccuracies of the show which he found particularly amusing. Her head rested on his shoulder as they let the series become a noise in the background.

“I just wish I would know how Michael found out about me”, he grumbled, while he played with her fingers, “I mean why now? After five years?”

“Maybe he always knew where you were”, she hummed carefully.

“But why only strike now?”

“I don’t know, Lucifer”, she whispered, trying her best to sound comforting as a thought washed over her, “Do you think it has something to do with Eve being back?”

He shook his head with vehemence. “No. I don’t necessarily think Eve is the problem. But I’ll find out soon.”

She nodded, not able to dim the churning in her gut as she snuggled further into his side.


	6.  St. Petersburg: 25th of May 2012: Red gravel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another glimpse of the past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey peeps! 
> 
> I've decided to add an additional updating day into my schedule: 
> 
> My updates will therefore shift to Monday, Wednesday and Saturday!
> 
> So excited to push this story further!
> 
> Sidenote: Ladna is the transcript of the Russian word ла́дно, which is used as we would use the word, okay/right
> 
> Love you peeps so much!

_ St. Petersburg: 25th of May 2012 _

_When he waited at the door this time around, she had been grocery shopping, glaring at him over the rim of the bag that she was carrying with both her hands. She rolled her eyes that had him grimace slightly as the whites of her eyes revealed themselves._

_“You again?”, her nose scrunched up in annoyance as she moved past him to open the door._

_“Let me in?”, he answered instead, charming grin trying to conceal the exhaustion he was feeling._

_“I’d rather not, actually.”_

_Her keys jingled loudly as they slipped from her grip as she fondled with them only to hit the ground. The woman’s gaze went up to the sky as if to pray for strength. He swiftly kneeled down to retrieve them for her, holding them up for her to take._

_“Thanks”, she grumbled and shrugged, “Alright, in with you.”_

_Manoeuvring the heavy bag and herself through the narrow doorway he followed her up the stairs, regarding her with slight concern in his eyes, an offer for help lingering on the tip of his tongue, but he refrained from doing so at her glare. Right._

_“Is this going to be a thing now? You showing up every six months to shadow me for a day or two?”_

_She wanted her remark to be snappy, he could tell, but all she managed were little pants._

_“Correct”, he mused, “At least until it is safe for you to move freely again.”_

_“Bloody marvellous.”_

_The remark reminded him so much of Sam that it had his heart squeezing painfully. He tried to shake of the pictures, the pain, the disappointment, the tiring last few months. He yearned to feel normal for once in his life. To not have a mission to complete or for his paperwork to be something different than the verification of contraband across the borders. Just normal. He had entered his thirties. Other people were married and had kids at his age and he couldn’t even get an afternoon off just to talk an ordinary person not entangled in some ominous and shady business._

_“You want to grab a coffee?”_

_It had slipped his lips before he had paid any thought to it, but her cynical snort had him halting in his steps._

_“A date? Really?”_

_“No”, he hurried to say, a frown contorting his features, “nothing like that, I am not that dumb.”_

_“Could’ve fooled me.”_

_“Funny”, he deadpanned, “No, I just –“_

_Using a sigh to gather words to figure out what he actually wanted to say, he continued, “I could use a little company. No obligations. No bullshit. I know, the situation is not ideal, but I don’t know about you, but I could use a distraction.”_

_Carefully putting down her bag she fiddled with the lock, before glancing at him, wide eyes roaming. They softened imperceptibly at the shadows that he knew he sported underneath his eyes. Opening the door and pushing her purchase inside she nodded shallowly._

_“Ladna. I’ll just put my groceries away, but sure we can do that.”_

_A smile curled the corners of his lips despite the dread that weighed on him. The situation back at home wasn’t ideal. Samael’s disappearance had led to more disturbances than he could have anticipated._

_He followed her inside, sinking into the very same chair he had been sitting in during his last visit. He allowed himself the luxury of closing his eyes. He inhaled a deep breath, letting his body catch a break for a moment, listening to the rhythmic clanking and shuffling of boxes and cans._

_“You know”, she began, conversationally, “I could have killed you if you’re careless like that.”_

_A smirk danced with the corner of his mouth._

_“You could definitely not have”, he answered, keeping his eyes blissfully closed, “I would’ve heard you the moment you grabbed a knife out of the block and even if I didn’t, I am drilled to react quickly.”_

_That had her pausing, before she hummed an agreement._

_“I know”, she sighed, very obviously disgruntled, “I never manage … managed to sneak up on your brother. That’s kinda annoying.”_

_“That I believe”, he said, trying not to let the cold that chased along his veins show, because he knew why it was so impossible. Silence fell upon them before she finally clapped her hands in satisfaction._

_“I’m done.”_

_“Let’s go then?”, he offered, a hint of tentativeness in his words._

_“Alright”, she nodded and he got to his feet. Her dark curls were tamed into a bun at the back of her head, while single strands fell to frame her face and he understood how his brother had come to love this woman._

_Wordlessly they made their way down the – still grey – stair case, her small figure seemed so fragile next to him._

_“Where to?”_

_“I know a small bakery a bit around the corner if you’d like. But we can also go over the marsava polje. Field of Mars”, she added at his frown, “further into the city. Get a bit of movement in.”_

_“That would be lovely”, he agreed as they stepped out into the mild air, “Lead the way, commander.”_

_His joke didn’t fall flat – he was glad – and she rolled her eyes with a small, huffed laugh. They made their way through the streets in companionable silence, flickering sunlight dipping the streets in warmth._

_“We’ll be walking past Peter-and-Pauls-Fortress and later look at the Church of Resurrection, if you want. It is really pretty”, she added with a slight smile, that made it impossible not to reciprocate it._

_“With pleasure”, he said and slowed his steps for her to catch up with him. She was rather short, now that he thought about it._

_Soft winds brought the scent of tamed water across the bridge they were walking on. It stretched its long arm across the water and weirdly enough reminded him of the street that led up to their village at home. The very same street that Sam and him had chased along when dawn had reached for the last rays of light, grinning broadly at each other, their laughter spilling across the pavement. That had been decades ago. His chest ached at the thought, at not knowing where he was. Despite all the anger and resentment – he was still his brother._

You better be alright, you bastard _, he sent towards the open sky, unable to quench the worry that had risen in his gut. He could only hope he hadn’t relapsed. Or worse. But he was strong, he always had been. He’d get through it. He shook off the ghosts of his mind and focused on the feeling of wind and sun caressing his face and the sound of sea gulls’ screaming that accompanied their steps._

_“I never got to tell you how grateful I am”, she suddenly said, breaking the silence, “For what you did for Sam five years ago. We couldn’t have done it without your help.”_

_He turned, taking in the worried crease of her forehead._

_“You’re welcome”, he said, even though the words felt hollow._

_How could he not have helped? A shudder ran along his spine as he remembered picking up the phone that day, cursing at the empty halls as he had hurried to the garage. He should have known better than not to push him, than not to ask him to stop._

_“Mhm”, she made, “I hope he is alright.”_

_Her eyes strayed along the waters, lingering on the Fortress that braved the gushing waves._

_“So do I”, he whispered._

_“But he’s strong”, she added, more trying to convince herself than him. The feeling was mutual._

_“That he is.”_

_They continued, not speaking, just basking in the little bubble they had created, pretending that everything was alright, when it wasn’t, that they were here, living an ordinary life, not two pawns trying to break out of a game not of their making. He let out a sigh, folding up the sleeves of his pullover as he took another breath._

_“So, what have you been up to?”, he finally broke their silence, “Anything new?”_

_“Mh, I’ve started a job in a diner not far from my home, but I’ll see whether I can apply for that one position in a bookstore in the city, because I think that would be fun.”_

_“A bookstore? Do tell”, he mused, looking for his sunglasses._

_“I’ve been reading a lot of Russian literature lately, Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina and all of that.”_

_“Original language?”_

_“Of course!”, she sounded nearly affronted, “If I am stuck here I can as well start learning Russian for real. I’ve been making a lot of progress, Leia said.”_

_“That I believe”, he smiled and ignored the jab with all the nonchalance he could muster._

_Crossing the streets they mingled with the tourists, movements calm and leisurely before they walked along the Field of Mars, the long stretch of gravel, red and crunching underneath the soles of his feet. The air felt fresh on his tongue, the Neva bringing a gust of fresh air towards the city._

_“We should go and see the Michaelowski park”, he smirked._

_“Ahaha, Michael”, she rolled her eyes at him, feet kicking the pebbles along the pathway._

_“It’s fascinating how many things people dedicated to my name”, he mused and she just shook her head._

_“Such an ego.”_

_“Oh, please. You’ve been in a relationship with Sam. You should be used to that.”_

_He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. She halted as if frozen to the ground. Closing his eyes, cursing his stupidity he turned around._

_“Eve, I’m sorry.”_

_Her hands, balled into fists at her side, trembled as did her quivering lips, her eyes glassy, but furious._

_“I am sorry”, he said, again, voice thick with regret, “I shouldn’t have said that.”_

_“No”, she sniffed, “You bloody well shouldn’t have.”_

_He lifted his hands as if approaching a hurt animal, his body fought itself – instinctively bristling at the idea of comforting somebody, while his heart yearned to ease her pain._

_“Are you… are you okay?”_

_His question was quiet and tentative and she struggled with her emotions._

_“I – no. How could I be okay with any of this?”_

_Her voice spilled rapidly and shrill across her lips._

_“I mean look around, Michael!”, she laughed, frantic hysterics palpable, “I am far from home, hidden in some city that I’ve never been to, never learned the language of, someone is trying to kill me and I can’t contact the man that I love, who by the way is believing me to be dead so – no. This is a disaster.”_

_Her chest heaved rapidly and he took another step forward into her orbit, his hands seeking out her shoulders._

_“Why are you doing this?”_

_“Doing what?”, he frowned. He was trying to comfort her or at least he thought that was what he was doing._

_“All of this. Hiding me here? Checking up on me?”_

_He sighed, a deep breath. He owed her answers. He did._

_“It was Uriel’s cohort that set up your assassination and I couldn’t let him succeed. It would have broken Sam apart”,_ probably has, _“and despite all that has happened between me and him, he is my brother.”_


	7. Stop being a coward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maze kicks Lucifer's butt and he makes a decision

Days drifted by as he was still stuck in the confines of helplessness. His Berretta had found a resting place on the bedside table on his side of the bed during the nights, despite Chloe’s protests that it wasn’t necessary and that the time it would need to draw the gun out of the fast box wouldn’t make a difference, but he disagreed. Every split second counted. She would be staring down a barrel before she could even reach under the bed. He wouldn’t take the chance of him not waking should Michael intrude. 

He had made sure to move his shifts to afternoons and early evenings in order to keep close to Chloe and the urchin when needed. It was a shame Patrick had gotten sick. Again. His eyes were scanning the bar in a motion that had become familiar and automatic rather quickly. Maze let out a frustrated groan at his nervous glances. 

“You will drive yourself mad like this”, she told him bluntly, eyes lined with coal narrowed dangerously, “and _don’t_ ask. Eve is fine.”

He swallowed a bitter huff as his teeth grinded against each other. Anxiety swam below his skin and he allowed his lids to slid shut for a moment, taking a deep breath in though his nose to gather himself. As he opened them, Maze had clenched her jaw, before her hand squeezed tightly around his arm as she tugged him, rather forcefully towards the back. Too baffled and maybe too tired he let himself be dragged. 

She shoved him in front of her to enter the dimly lit room in the back first. He had to extend his hands in front of him to catch himself against the shelf as she pushed him. 

“Maze!”, he hissed, unable to keep the annoyance out of his voice. Not that she would care. 

The narrow space seemed too small for him to be comfortable and he twisted his ring between the tips of his fingers as if it would help him escape – or at very least ease the tension he carried with him. 

Crossing her arms in front of her chest she glared at him, “I mean it, Lucifer. This is getting even worse than back when you started out and you were hammered the first few months when you showed up at work. Even then you did a better job at well, your job than now.”

He scoffed. Back then he had been trying to drown and forget his pain and grief through work. But now? He wanted nothing more than to never leave Chloe’s side again. How was he supposed to protect her or the urchin when he wasn’t physically present?

He could’ve sworn Maze’s voice softened a smidge as she continued, “This is not doing anyone any good. Josh has noticed. You need to get it together or you are going to lose this job.

A breath rushed over his lips as he rubbed his palm over his face. He knew he had gotten flimsy switching shifts over and over again, leaving early, getting there late. He was on edge from nothing but waiting and worrying, not sure what to do with himself. 

Dark eyes regarded him, understanding and filled with a wisdom beyond her age, crafted and sharpened by life. And in his Dad’s name it hadn’t been an easy one. For neither of them.

“I get it. It sucks, but come on”, something challenging laced her voice, luring the hurt ego inside him out to play, “You’d never let _Michael_ get in your way. Stop being a coward.”

With that she turned on the heel of her thigh-high boot, shoved the cleaning rug she was carrying into his chest that he was – dumbfoundedly - holding onto and left. 

Did she just call him a coward? Him? He was doing nothing else the whole day but trying to protect them! All he was doing – his hand came up to rub his chest as it constricted painfully. He just wanted them to be safe. All of them and he didn’t know how to. He was trying everything in his power, but then again did he? Or could he be doing more? Something else but playing watch dog? 

He swallowed to wet his dry throat. He should’ve reached out to Michael already. Should’ve found out what he was planning already. Should’ve at least poked the bear with a stick, so to speak. He would do that. He would do that when Beatrice was out of the country. 

_Why are you stalling?,_ the Doctor would’ve asked him and he scoffed quietly, lips drawing back into a grimace. 

Truth to be told, he knew he could beat Michael, no problem at all. He would be finally able to get all the anger and hurt over Eve’s assassination out, finally confront him about what Uriel and him had done. He tried to avoid the little part of him that was terrified. Not of his brother, no. But of finally having clarity on whether he was involved in Eve’s death. He didn’t want him to have anything to do with it – not…not his twin. Michael might hate him since the fateful week of the Recruitment, but he wouldn’t hurt someone as innocent as Eve, would he?

He released a frustrated breath, swallowing the bitterness in his throat as he blinked the burning in his eyes away. He should stop pining after his twin - the innocent brother he had once been had been lost for decades already. He should stop pining after what was long lost. 

He shook his head, heaving made up his mind. 

His fingers carefully folded the rag Maze had left him as he made his way back to the bar. Her leather clad figure made her way elegantly through the crowd, agile as always. He smiled charmingly at the man at the bar and took his order, while they bantered a bit, easy conversation flowing. As the woman’s familiar presence returned to his side, he leaned down. 

“You were right”, he pressed out, unable to keep the annoyance out of his voice, “Thank you, Mazikeen.” 

He hated how smug she got when he admitted defeat. 

“You are welcome”, she said, purring and grinning, all teeth and sharp wit as she loaded the next tableau. He shook his head with a slight smirk, that might have looked a little crooked as he shoved her shoulder. 

“Oh, bugger off, will you?”

He had indeed made up his mind. He was once the wrath of _God._ Who could challenge the Supreme Commander of heaven if not him, the Adversary?

\---

It was dark when he came home, night had enveloped the city in silky sheets, light pollution denying him the ability to see the stars. He missed them. Missed the way he would look up to see them scattered along the fabric of the universe, comforted in a knowledge that there was something bigger than him, something that rendered him and his pain so insignificant that it nearly set him free. His fingers ached with phantom pains while he opened up the door. Carefully he nudged it open to slip into the comfort of what he had deemed his home for the past few days – if not longer than that.

The apartment was silent when he toed off his shoes and shrugged off his jacket, padded along the floor. Instinctively his eyes flickered towards the windows, the urchin’s room, Chloe’s.

Sometimes she would stay awake and wait for him, curled up on the couch with hazy, blue eyes – dinner cooked and prepared for him waiting on the stove. But right now the room yawned quietly as if to tell him that the two of them were fast asleep. Like every night orange stripes of streetlights fell through the window, illuminating just enough for him to see without having to turn on the lamp.

A plate rested on the counter, rice and stir fry on it – she had finally gotten around to make something different than pasta. Not that he didn’t like pasta, especially not if she made it. Quietly rummaging for a fork he opened the drawers, searching. His stomach had remained mournfully empty over the course of his shift, he had been too busy with brooding and actually serving people their drinks. Wolfing down his meal and washing it down with water – he was trying to supply his system with something without ethanol in it – he put the plate into the sink, nearly automatically turning on the water to rinse it and the remaining cups and bowls in it. It was something he and Eve had always done together – or well, she had done them, while he absentmindedly dried them – when she was gone, he had wished he would’ve paid more attention to it. Gone, because she wasn’t dead. All the prayers he had sent to the skies, the tears the rage. It had all been for nothing. Useless. The sharp pain that he felt had been blunted by fear over the course of the last few days and even if he was content with Chloe – he loved her, he truly did – a part of him was whispering _what if?_

What if he would get back together with Eve? Would they still joke around while they were doing their chores or would they leave the dishes dirty in the sink before matters became too pressing? Would they fall back into the easy rhythm they had had going on? Would she still wake him early, just so they would have more intimate hours before they both had to get to work?

What if he did change his mind and go back to her? What would become of Chloe and the urchin? His chest stung even thinking about it. He wouldn’t hurt them, couldn’t bear seeing them hurt. His Decker women, well his Decker woman and one Decker urchin.

His gut clenched uncomfortably. There was a reason he was here now, in the middle of the night doing Chloe’s dishes – their dishes. It had been five years and despite the love that he still felt for Eve – would always feel for Eve – it was Chloe that he turned to at night, when fear gripped his heart. It had been Chloe who kissed his scars and held him through his sobs. It had been Chloe he had thought of, had wanted to turn to the minute he had gotten Eve back. It was Chloe that he laughed and bantered with and her daughter that beat him at Monopoly. It was Chloe that he made love to or had his wicked way with. Chloe wasn’t only his partner, she was his friend, his confidante, someone he could come _home_ to. Finally have a home _with_. 

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he dried the last mug, caressed by cotton and artificial light, before he made his way through the flat. He would just check quickly on the urchin before he could – well after a shower at least – slide into bed and find rest next to his lover.

Gently cracking the door open, making sure not to make a sound he peaked into the room.

Curled up on the child’s single bed they lay, mother and daughter nestled into each other. The spawn was protected by Chloe’s arms, held tightly in her embrace. His heartstrings sang, sang delicate melodies and sang of love and he swallowed to rid himself of the knot in his throat. With the utmost care he could muster he sneaked to them, avoiding the urchin’s litany of toy sprawled all over the floor. His fingers, still achy and stiff – uncomfortable enough for him to refrain from playing the piano tonight – seized the edge of the blanket that had fallen off the two of them, to cover them. On their way up they brushed past her cheek, tucking the errant strands from her face behind her ear, her lips gaping open as she let out a little snore that had him chuckling. Softly he pressed a kiss to her forehead, murmuring a quiet _goodnight, love_ against her skin. He hesitated, before he leaned forward to put another kiss to the urchin’s temple.

He would protect them. With all that he had, all that he was.

The next day he sat at a park bench, laptop open on his knees, the words written out in front of him stared up questioningly. He had remembered to go into incognito mode, dive into the dark web and encrypt his mails the way he had done it for almost all his life.

_Meet me at Hunter’s point at 10 am, next Tuesday – Sam_

His brother’s email address had been buried deep in his mind to shoot into his fingers as soon as he asked for it. He was sure Michael still remembered their codeword; they’d used it so very often.

The arrow hovered above the _send_ icon, nearly tauntingly. Lucifer took a deep breath, annoyed by the fact that he was hesitating.

_Stop being a coward._

He hit _send_. Now he only had to wait for him to answer.


	8. St. Petersburg; 20th of November 2012: So cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile in Russia... 
> 
> 4 years ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning peeps! 
> 
> Today the chapter is a little shorter, but you will get a longer one as compensation on Monday! But the chapters playing in Russia are never that long!
> 
> Thank you so much guys for every comment and bookmark and kudo and read! I appreciate you so much!
> 
> Lots of love!

St. Petersburg: 20th of November 2012:

_It was late when he arrived, darkness towed on his figure as he made his way through the streets, hidden in the shadows of the lanterns. Tiredness nestled in the hollows beneath his eyes, had him dragging his otherwise so sure and elegant steps as if fed of his energy._

_The flight hadn't taken long, but the day felt like it had lasted eons already. The street had become familiar, had become a friend of sorts, a road that led to a semblance of peace. Straightening out the bumps that Uriel and his cohort had caused had stolen his proud posture, the quickness and precision of his mind. The dark swam like shadows, like ghosts. he just wanted to escape. Escape the cold that he'd called home for a long time, but how could it be home?_

"Samael is gone. We haven't found his body yet. So he's either better at hiding his traces than we thought or the ocean swallowed the junkie."

God hummed, only a slight frown between his brows indicated a hint of emotion. 

"No matter. At least he is out of the way. He just wasn't strong enough."

_The very same anger that he had felt back then, fists coiled tight in rage and horror and indignation in those wide, white halls, flooded him now. This was Sammy they were talking about. His brother, his twin. God's son - no, his father's son! The very same child that had been chasing butterflies across the lawn, with his father's amused eyes following him. but then again - Michael clenched his jaw - when his father had turned into God any semblence of the man that had been his Dad had been swallowed by the shadows of Heaven._

_Whether he shook from the beast that was thundering inside his chest or from the cold, he didn't know. His chest was heaving once he came to rest in the orifice of the doorway. Even through his leather gloves he could feel the Russian winter - there was no way this was supposed to be autumn - stinging and biting. He flexed his knuckles in annoyance, before he rang the bell. He should wait until the morning but the thought of an empty hotel room pushed him towards an apartment smelling like cabbage._

_"Kto eta?", a feminine voice sounded, mechanical and flimmering through the intercom._

_"Michael", he said._

_The door buzzed and he pushed it open, the walls crowded him in familiar ways, so different from the vast emptiness of Caelum's headquaters. His feet found the uneven steps as if they had done nothing else for his whole life, tired limbs climbing towards the promised warmth. He wondered whether Eve had gotten the job in the bookstore that she had so desperately wanted. He rememered laughing over coffee teasing her with citated lines of the little Russian literature that he had learned during the Recruitment. Important if they did eventually make deals with man of the Bratva. Not that they had been very successful with that venture. Not since they had introduced Eden to the market._

_He had thought Leia would be the one to open the door, but the worried frown on Eve's face that welcomed him, he hadn't expected._

_"It's late", she told him, but somehow it didn't sound accusing._

_"I know. It's been quite the day."_

_She nodded and stepped aside for him to slip inside the apartment. He shuddered at the warmth that embraced him. His eyes flickered across the room._

_"Leia is out. A guy she's seeing."_

_He hummed in acknowledgement as he slid out of his boots, his coat, lastly his gloves. Eve had disappeared behind the arch of the doorframe. Something clinked in the kitchen._

_"We have a little bit of lunch left, if you want?", she called._

_"I wouldn't say no", he brushed his fingers across the fabric of his trousers as he followed her. Aiming for the kitchen he halted as she shot him a glare._

_"Sit down, you. You look exhausted."_

_He wanted to say something, but the woman ushered him towards the table and so he stopped resisting, slumping down in the chair._

_"What did you have for lunch?"_

_"Borsch", she answered, "You'll like it. It's perfect if the weather is like this."_

_"Dark, wet, cold?"_

_"I wanted to say Russian", she chuckled with a smirk, "Not that it's better at home, but at least it's not that freezing."_

_He hummed as he eyed her. She had crossed her arms in front of her chest, staring into nothing as she reminisced, longing written all over her features. The pot on the stove started bubbling happily. Michael closed his eyes, trying to breath through the stinging inside his lungs._

Sam _, he plead towards who ever would be listening - maybe not God. No, definitely not God -_ please be alright, brother.

_Wordlessly she prepared the soup, placing it in front of him, before she took her seat opposite of him. Steam rose in tender swirls of vapour. His stomach was yearning for food._

_"Thank you, Eve", he said, quietly._

_"You're welcome", she smiled, tired, but gentle as she lifted her tea towards her lips. Her lids slid close as she as she exhaled into her cup. The first spoon of the pink, hot soup tasted divine on his lips._

_"Thank you", he said again, hand tentatively reaching out for hers resting on the table. It was warm to his touch, soft against his fingers. Said fingers brushed over his skin, the stripes of pink scars and white connective tissue. He glanced away, but her dark eyes, warm eyes caught his again._

_"It's... he cleared his throat, "it's really good."_

_"Thank you", a grin found its way to her lips. And just like that he felt the weight drop off his shoulders, he felt his ribcage expand in a relieved breath and he smiled. Her hand felt small and gentle in his; he was lost and suddenly that seemed okay. In this small living room in middle of a freezing storm in the dark sat the two people who loved his brother more than anything. They would find him, get Eve's home back and a piece of his too._


	9. Not yet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe starts an investigation, domesticity and Penelope comes to pick up Trixie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning peeps! 
> 
> This time around a longer chapter for you guys! Features Deckerstar fluff and Step-Devil time^^
> 
> This chapter holds mentions of infertility. If this is a sensitive topic for you, please read this with care! I am sending all my love out to you guys. 
> 
> (and I know you guys are getting antsy with why the hell Eve is still lying to Lucifer - it will be revealed at one point! She has a reason - not sure whether you will like it - but she has a very human reason^^)

Chloe’s fingers were itching to dance across her computer’s keypad, to find leads and answers and pull them out of the hidden depths of the internet. She hadn’t promised him not to investigate, had she?

_Bloody_ terrified _is what I am._

He would hate it, would hate it because it supposedly put her in danger – somehow. It wasn’t like she wasn’t in danger anyway, with her comfortable 9 to 5 administrative desk job. She shook her head with an eye roll. If anything she was in more danger for not knowing what Michael was planning. She refused to be prey ducking in a field, pressing itself flatly to the ground to escape the predator.

She couldn’t just sit there and do nothing. It just wasn’t her and even though Lucifer wouldn’t like it – she couldn’t just sit by and wait for something to happen. He had been stretching himself thin over the past few days wanting to protect not only her, but also Trixie and Eve. She wouldn’t just sit by, she would help. It was what partners did, wasn’t it? Having each other’s back?

She nodded to herself. It didn’t matter whether he wanted her help or not she would provide anyway. She knew she could also reach out to Maria, whose connections always paid off. Dammit, she would need all the help she could get – Caelum was outstanding at hiding its tracks.

Opening up her notebook she put Michael’s name down, put down what she knew of him, avenues and possibilities she wanted to explore. Biting her lips she hesitated, before putting another name down:

_Eve?_

It was all she had, the only connection that could possibly exist. She was the only variable that had changed over the past few months – she was her starting point. She would figure out how Eve survived. Where she had been hiding, whether there was something that connected them. And she would start with St. Petersburg. With Leia Michaelnova.

\---

Days had dripped along in a viscous stream of hours, exhaustion gnawed at her limbs and her eyes. Her brain was trying to counteract the tiredness she felt, but the cases that she still had to solve, along with her own investigation drained her. Lucifer looked no better than she did, but the nervous fiddling and pacing had subsided into a stoic calmness, that unsettled her even more. It was like the source of his exuberant joy and energy had been cut off, had depleted.

She knew he had contacted Michael and she knew that that was the reason he was so drawn into himself. She was too on edge to do much else, but curl up by his side, her hands softly carding through the black strands of his hair and murmur gentle reassurances into his skin.

Trixie had fallen asleep sprawled across his lap, but he had stopped caring a long time ago, even if he would deny it.

“Your mother is picking her up tomorrow?”, he whispered, shadows deep underneath his eyes as his hand softly carded through her daughter’s tangled hair.

She hummed an affirmation, while the palms of her hands smoothed over the fabric of his shirt. He nodded to himself, gaze gentle as he stared into nothing.

“You okay?”

The question had hung between them unspoken for the last few days and now was out in the open.

“With you I always will be”, he said quietly, a smile blooming on his lips.

“I love you”, she answered, knot in her throat, leaning against his shoulder, “but I mean it. Are you okay?”

Now it was his turn to hum as if he was pondering over his answer as he leaned his head against hers.

“I”, he cleared his throat, “I’m gonna miss the little urchin.”

Her heart melted in her chest to drip through her diaphragm into her stomach, collecting golden and full of love.

“Me too”, she whispers, fingers brushing along her child’s cheek.

“I love you”, he breathed into the quiet room, “an impossible amount.”

“I love you”, she repeated, “more than you could ever imagine.”

They sat in silence, basking each other’s warmth. They were home and they were safe and they would keep each other safe.

“When are you meeting Michael?”

“Tuesday, the tosser has actually answered.”

“Lucifer”, she admonished.

“What? She’s asleep, Detective. She can’t hear me. Besides, she doesn’t understand it anyways. Americans”, he added under his breath.

“Still”, she rolled her eyes, “What has he answered?”

“A lowercase ‘k’. I’m not worth real words apparently.”

“You’re worth all the words”, she said.

He pressed a kiss to her temple, “You flatter me, Detective.”

“Someone has to”, she chuckled as his arm wound around her pulling her closer. She made a happy sound, but her body ached. It was late, the credits of the movie they’d been watching had long ended.

“I should get Trixie to bed.”

She was about to get up, legs whining in protest as Lucifer gripped her more tightly. Questioningly she turned around, corners of her mouth quirking up.

“You need to let me go”, she smiled, “I’ll be back as quick as I can. “

“Not yet”, he said, eyes comfortable and pleading, “not yet.”

She didn’t miss how his gaze flickered down to her daughter, her little girl that had curled up in his lap and was now drooling onto his leg.

“Okay”, she whispered and fell back onto the couch, “Okay.”

She nestled back into his embrace, eyelids heavy and tired and indeed they didn’t get up – not yet. Not until the sun rose and Chloe’s phone tore them out of their slumber when her mother called that her flight had just landed.

\---

“Chloe, darling!”, sweet like honey her voice wafted through the air as her mother scurried through the door and into the apartment. The energetic welcome she granted her was so different, so alien from the slow morning they’d had, lazing on the couch without making an effort to move.

“Hey, Mom”, she smiled, reciprocating her hug as she dramatically threw her arms around her.

“Pumpkin, it’s been so _long_ ”, she sighed, pressing a forceful kiss to her cheek that had her nose scrunching.

“Nana!”, Trixie shrieked and darted towards her grandmother. The latter let go of her, her heavy perfume still lingering in her nose. She blinked rapidly and turned, her mother cuddling her granddaughter as if she hadn’t seen her for two years. Lucifer had padded through the living area and stood now in the doorway, shoulder propped against its frame. Despite the ruffled hair and the still sleep ridden eyes he looked like temptation in person, slight smirk and amused spark in his gaze in place.

“And who would that handsome, young man be?”, her mother had paused her mission to pepper every inch of her granddaughter’s face as her eyes fell onto Lucifer.

“Mom”, Chloe cleared her throat, slightly uncomfortable as she shuffled closer to her partner, because – did her mother have to look at him as if she was about to undress him?

“That is Lucifer, my boyfriend”, the word sounded childish on her tongue; he was so much more than that.

Blonde and drawn eyebrows rose to a similarly blonde hairline as she let go.

“Lucifer Morningstar”, he smiled as he took a step forward, voice deep and soft and he had won her over already, “I am so glad to finally meet you! Great fan of your work. Of any kind.”

He threw Chloe a wink and she blushed like tomatoes in the sun.

“Oh, pumpkin he is exquisite!”, she laughed, light and flattered, “Penelope Decker. It’s so nice to meet you. Had I known that my daughter has found such a lovely companion I would have dropped by sooner.”

Chloe rolled her eyes at the jab in her direction. The whole not telling thing had kinda been the point. She could have snorted as Lucifer attentively took her mother’s hand to kiss it in the old-fashioned kind of way that she loved. Which explained why she was giggling like a high school girl.

“Aaalright”, she said, voice tight, “Do you want something to drink, Mom? Coffee? Water?”

The addressed blinked, before beaming.

“Both would be lovely, darling thank you! And now”, she turned towards Trixie, “Tell me everything about that cute, little puppy you’ve been sending me pictures of.”

Her daughter sucked in a deep breath as if to supply herself with all the oxygen she could gather, before she tugged at her grandmother’s hand and started bubbling.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake”, Chloe could hear Lucifer grumble behind her as they made their way towards the kitchen, “That again.”

She laughed at that, because she secretly knew he adored her daughter’s excited rants. The puppy conversation was getting old, but he would still indulge her if it made her happy.

Setting up the coffee she leaned against his chest, longing for the quiet hours they had together.

“You alright, love?”

His stubble brushed across her skin as he leaned down, voice rumbling warm and lovingly behind her.

“Just fine”, she smiled, “still the same Mom she always is.”

“She is rather fetching”, he chuckled.

“Of course you would think that”, she teased him as she nudged him with the top of her head.

“Mhm, can’t resist a Decker woman.”

“I know you don’t.”

“What’s with that undertone?”, he was trying to sound affronted, but she could hear his forming smirk. Grinning she turned in his embrace to wind her arms around his neck.

“I know”, she began, voice teasing and low, “that if you had the capacity and the means to keep a dog in your apartment you would cave in and buy Trixie that puppy she’s always going on about.”

“I most certainly would not!”

“Do too.”

“No, I wouldn’t!”

“She has wrapped you around her teeny tiny little finger. One bat with those lashes of hers”, she grinned, “and you cave.”

He narrowed his eyes to slits.

“So weak for her.”

“How dare you?”, he bristled, fingers wandering up to her waist, “You take that back.”

Laughter spilled in cascading waves broken by squeals from her lips as he tickled her. She writhed in his grip, desperately gasping and pleading him to stop. For a moment he paused, squinting at her while he held her tightly.

“Do you yield?”

She shook her head frantically, stupid grin still in place.

“ _Detective_ ”, his voice held an amused warning, “yield.”

“Never”, she gasped out before surging forward and capturing his lips in a kiss. The little sound he made at the back of his throat did things to her. Melting against her lips, his hands wandered to her back, holding her tightly to him, before they separated, breathing heavily.

“Naw”, her mother’s voice had them flinching apart, “You two remind me of me and your Dad, pumpkin.”

Chloe could feel herself blushing to the roots of her hair.

“Mom”, she sighed, but she gave her her best mom-glare that had her ducking her head. She knew Lucifer was grinning like a peacock behind her, while he turned to finish her mother’s beverage.

“Don’t _mom_ me, Chloe”, she chuckled, “You two do.”

“Your coffee, Penelope”, Lucifer said, reaching out to put the mug onto the counter.

“Thank you, darling”, she smiled, humming happily, “I need to hear everything about this”, she gestured between the two of them as she lifted her coffee up to her face, taking a little sip, “but let’s sit first.”

“Excellent idea”, he purred behind Chloe, his hand finding its place on her lower back as he maneuvered them towards the small table.

They’d taken their seat and with her mother on one side and Lucifer and her on the other she felt like this was her personal interrogation. Lucifer didn’t mind the attention at all – when did he mind the attention though? She refrained from rolling her eyes.

“So”, her mother’s eyebrows wiggled suggestively, “since when has this been going on?”

“Uhm”, Chloe made, just as her wonderful devil in crime leaned back, cocky and confident as ever.

“April. Middle of April. 15th to be exact.”

She turned with a small huff of amusement to peck his lips. He was adorable like this.

“Chloe Jane Decker!”

Oh, here they went.

“Why haven’t I heard of this before? You’ve been hiding this treasure from me for _months_?”

She rolled her eyes, “Mom, I am hardly sixteen anymore.”

“Still! I have missed so much!”

And so they told her about how Trixie had ran into Lucifer and how they’d gone out for coffee afterwards – well, Chloe explained while Lucifer threw in his occasional, teasing remark which had the story stretching twice as long as it would have needed. At some point her mother scampered off to the bathroom, not without gushing about what a pretty pair they were.

Chloe let out a sigh of relief at the break they were getting. She knew whom she had gotten the stubbornness from. Glancing at Lucifer she caught him pondering while his gaze was fixed on her.

“What is it?”, she tilted her head curiously.

“Mh, just thinking.”

“About what?”, she smiled.

“Jane.”

Oh, for heaven’s sake. Or maybe not heaven’s sake. Damn Lucifer for ruining all her curses.

She rolled her eyes. “Of course you’d get stuck on that.”

“What do you think of me, Detective? I most certainly would”, he paused for a moment as if he had to think a little more about it, before leaning forward, “impossibly boring.”

She snorted, “You love it.”

  
“Damn right, I do”, he murmured, bowing down to her level to catch her lips in a kiss, that had her humming in happiness.

They lingered in each other’s space even as her mother came back, chattering on only for the topic to approach Dan, which had Lucifer grumbling in annoyance.

“So, Dan will be at the airport, pumpkin?”

“I suppose so”, Chloe nodded, “But please call him beforehand, not that you’re waiting for him and he has something _important_ to do at work or something.”

Penelope rolled her eyes at that, “Yes, well. I will make sure he’s there.”

She nodded with a small smirk. If someone could get Dan under control it was her mother. A tug at her sleeve had her looking down at her daughter.

“Mommy”, she whispered urgently.

“What is it, Trix? I’m talking to Nana.”

Her wide brown eyes stared up at her, pleading.

“I can’t find something. Can you help me looking for it?”

“Sweetie, later alright?”

“But, Mommy!”, she protested weakly, “Please.”

Chloe took in a deep breath as slight annoyance crept up in her, “How about Lucifer helps you searching?”

A vehement headshake. Chloe frowned. Trixie would never let go of an opportunity to spend time with him. The insecurity on her small features had concern rising in her chest.

“What’s wrong babe? Why not?”

Lucifer next to her caught her gaze, his brows furrowed in confusion.

Trixie played with her fingers as she tugged her down so she could whisper in her ear.

“I don’t know where the necklace is, Mommy.”

A slight tremor in her voice spoke of tears.

“Oh, baby”, she sighed, hands softly brushing over her back. A chair scraped across the floor and Lucifer was kneeling next to them – risking his immaculate suit pants - apparently the devil’s ears worked better than hers.

“Beatrice”, he said, tone worried and gentle as his gaze roamed across her face, “did you – did you think I would be mad at you? That you don’t know where you put it?”

Her daughter sniffed with a nearly imperceptible nod, that had something haunted flicker across his features.

  
“Urchin, there is very, _very_ little you could do to make me angry at you”, he smiled tentatively, softly as Trixie let go of Chloe’s hand.

“So you’re not mad at me?”

“Course not”, he huffed, “Don’t be silly.”

With that her Monkey flew into his arms, knocking all air out of him as he flinched back. Chloe snorted at the expression of slight shock on his face.

“Ah, spawn, let’s go look for it, shall we?”, he murmured as he carefully patted her head.

“Okay!”, she was back to her normal self, beaming and happy as she dragged her favourite devil along to the bathroom, where she had seen it last night. Chloe’s heart skittered lovingly in her chest at the sight.

“He is wonderful with her”, her mother sighed with a small smile on her lips.

“Mhm, she has him completely enthralled.”

“As does her mother”, a wink had her blushing, “You better keep that one close, pumpkin.”

“Not planning to let him go for a long time, Mom.”

She truly didn’t. She had forgotten life could be that light – despite the whole Michael fiasco, despite the whole Eve disaster. Footsteps announced her favourite persons’ return.

“Not that you would need to hold onto me, Detective”, he called lightly from the couch, “I am not planning on going anywhere.”

She could have melted right there on the spot. Blush rose in her cheeks, furiously and she turned in her chair to see him fasten the delicate necklace he had gotten for Trixie behind the latter’s neck. She didn’t think she could love him anymore than she already did.

“Naw”, her mother cooed, “You make a wonderful family, the three of you”

Lucifer’s smile was so unbearably soft as he looked at her.

“and you’d make a delightful father, dear”, she continued and Chloe closed her eyes in embarrassment, “Chloe _did_ say she wanted another child after all.”

“ _Mom_!”, she hissed, tearing open her lids only to catch Lucifer’s gaze, that had her pausing. Her heart broke with her next breath as he swallowed. Something so impossibly painfully shimmered in his eyes that it had her chest constricting so tightly she was afraid it would crush her ribcage.

“Ah”, he made, voice shaking ever so slightly, “I am afraid Beatrice will have to suffice.”

Speechless silence hung above them as Lucifer shuffled back to the table, only for Chloe to reach for his hand and grip it tightly in hers. His palms quivered with small tremors, so infinitesimal that she nearly would’ve missed them. He squeezed back.

“Oh, dear”, her mother sighed, expression compassionate, “I am sorry. That was horribly insensitive of me.”

He gave her half a smile that was meant to be reassuring. “It’s fine.”

Chloe held his hand a little tighter.

The rest of the afternoon was spent in cheerful chatter and Chloe’s heart bled when she asked whether she should accompany them to the airport.

“Chloe, pumpkin”, her mother smiled, something wistful and loving, “We will be fine, won’t we, princess?”

“Yes, Nana!”, Trixie beamed up at her, backpack holstered and ready for an adventure. Chloe felt like a horrible mother for not staying with her for as long as possible. Lucifer was a warm presence behind her, hands gently kneading her shoulders. Kneeling down she opened her arms.

“Come here, Monkey”, she managed to keep her voice level as her daughter jumped into her arms for her to hold on tightly. “I love you so much, Trix”, she murmured into her hair, “so, so much.”

“I love you too, Mommy”, she squeaked as she was pressed tighter against Chloe’s chest.

  
“I’m gonna miss you. _So much_.”

“I’m gonna miss you too. But I can see Daddy!” She pushed back and grinned.

“Be good for him, okay? And remind him that you can’t have sugar after 5 pm and -“

“Love”, Lucifer chuckled over the noise of the street, “it’s gonna be just fine. I’m sure Daniel does remember all these arbitrary sets of rules.”

She glanced up at him and with a silent huff she nodded.

“Right”, she wouldn’t cry. No, she damn well wouldn’t. She rose to hug her mother, “Thank you so much for doing this.”

“It’s nothing, pumpkin”, she chuckled as she pressed a peck to her cheek, “I’m glad I got to see you again.”

“Me too, Mom.”

They separated and Chloe giggled – if a little watery – as Trixie had attached herself to Lucifer’s hip and he looked at her with a mixture between amusement and softness, tainted by the slight confusion that still flickered across his face. His hand gently brushed over her daughter’s hair.

“Right, urchin. This is where we part.”

“I’m gonna miss you, Lucifer.”

He huffed out a little laugh, “I can’t believe I am saying this, but I will miss you too, Beatrice, dearly.”

She beamed at that and her partner grinned down at her.

“Now off you pop, you’ve got a flight to catch”, he took a step forward to kiss her mother’s cheek, “Goodbye, Penelope, it’s been lovely. Have a safe flight and bring the urchin securely down to LA.”

“Oh, I will, my dear”, she pulled away, hands resting on his upper arms as she continued a lot softer than Chloe was used to, “I know it is _hard._ It is. But don’t lose hope. Life might surprise you. It most certainly did with me and granted me this little miracle.”

She winked at her daughter and Lucifer followed her gaze, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“She is quite miraculous, isn’t she?”

Chloe wasn’t sure which of them had her blushing harder.

“But I am afraid the universe is not that gracious when it comes to me.”

Hugging Trixie goodbye another time and watching them disappear into the taxi that would bring them to the airport had her eyes welling up with tears regardless.

“Come here”, Lucifer pulled her closer with the arm that lay around her shoulder, pressing a kiss to her temple.

She sniffed a little watery sniff and smiled despite the piece of her that was missing.

“She’s gonna be fine, right?”

“Of course, love”, he snorted, “You’re talking about your spawn after all. She’s fierce.”

Placated she shook her head as she rested it on his chest.

“Maze said that, didn’t she?”

As she looked up his grin was answer enough.

When they finally lay next to each other under the covers, naked bodies nestled into each other’s space, Chloe turned towards him.

“Hey”, she murmured with a small smile on her lips.

“Hello, Detective”, he purred, eyes twinkling with contentment. Her heart got heavy when she let the afternoon run through her mind again.

“Are you okay?”

He looked at her as if she’d just told him she wanted to change careers and become a confectioner instead.

“I just came inside you in a glorious orgasm, yes I’d say I’m more than alright, love.”

She rolled her eyes with an amused huff as she propped herself up on an elbow.

“No, I mean… because of – of the whole thing with family and children and… yeah”, she trailed off, worried she’d somehow put her foot in her mouth.

“Oh”, he made, a quiet and raw sound. Her hand came up to tangle his fingers with his. He released a breath through his nose, pondering.

“You know. I got used to it, I mean I never understood the human desire to procreate, anyway and well… it slips my mind most of the time.”

“Most of the time?”

His dark eyes sought hers out, emotion too heavy to convey gathering in them.

“Mh”, he made, not saying more, but she understood that he couldn’t. She kissed the hand she held in hers, lips brushing across his knuckles.

“I”, he began, swallowing, “I am sorry. I know you would want a… a second offspring and-“

She sat up straighter, glaring at him, “Don’t you dare be sorry for that.”

He blinked owlishly and she shook her head, heart so very full of sorrow and love.

“Lucifer, I couldn’t care less about that. What we have – Trixie, you, me – that’s enough. More than that. It’s everything I could ever ask for”, her fingers caressed his cheek, “I love you. I love this little family that we have. Okay?”

He looked at her, gaze swimming in the light as he blinked.

“I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you”, his voice cracked at the edges, but he was smiling, “It’s like you’re my personal angel.”

Chloe grinned at him, pressing a peck to his lips.

“An angel tempted by the devil, huh?”

He laughed at that, pulled her towards him and rolled them over as he sealed their lips in a searing kiss. A content smile pulled at her lips.

Panting, he pulled away, grinning down at her as he proceeded to pepper kisses all over her face.

“I love you. So very bloody much.”

“Love you too, Satan”, she giggled as he snorted in amusement.


	10. It will pass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer being there for Chloe during one of the worse times of the month

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning peeps! 
> 
> Another chapter for you guys, I am only a few scenes away from finishing the first draft - I am excited!
> 
> The book Lucifer is reading is called Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell - must say I loved this book. 
> 
> Sending you guys so much love! I love reading and answering your comments, it's one of the best things about my day :3

Chloe curled into herself, eyes closed as she focused on breathing. It would pass. It would pass. Gritting her teeth she swallowed through the pain that tugged from her lowed abdomen down her thighs, cramps pulling at her taut muscles. She breathed, sucking air through her nose as she tried not to let out a grunt. She failed miserably as a whimper dragged itself from her lips.

“Detective?”

“I’m fine!”, she called back towards the kitchen.

Lucifer emerged from it, a worried frown creasing his forehead.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, love, but you don’t look quite fine”, with a few steps of his impossibly long legs he stood in front of her. His eyes roamed over her miserable form as he crouched down. She sighed through grit teeth.

“It’s just cramps”, she croaked out, leaning into the palm of his hand as he cupped her face.

He scrutinized her, “But it wasn’t that bad last month, was it?”

She shook her head, “No”, it came out as a languid whine, “it’s only that bad like once or twice a year.”

“What can I do?”, the pad of his thumb brushed along her cheek.

“There’s”, she swallowed as her hands gently massaged her aching thighs, “there’s Tylenol in the cupboard in the bathroom.”

“Alright, I’ll get you one. Heating flask?”

“Please”, she murmured and he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Coming right up.”

She sat there, cursing the world and her uterus for being such a pain in the ass while she waited. A hand held out a pill and glass of water that she took from him, gratefulness seeping deep into her bones.

“Thanks”, she murmured as she swallowed a mouth full of water for the pill to glide down her throat. The apartment was only illuminated by the lamp in the corner and the one in the kitchen.

“Let’s get you to bed, shall we?”, he answered with a smile as he shrugged her thanks off. As he got up and made a step forward as if to scoop her up in his arms, she let out a laugh.

“I am on my period, not disabled. I can walk.”

He rolled his eyes with an amused expression on his face, “Right, let’s get on with it then, Detective.”

Pushing herself up she grimaced, before she stood proud. It would pass. It would pass. The worry didn’t leave his expression as he followed shortly behind her and she couldn’t help but shake her head. One could believe he was a mother hen, protectively scampering past her chicks.

“Lucifer, I am fine”, she said. It would have been more convincing if she hadn’t had to brace her hands onto her knees as she finished her sentence as another cramp had her things shaking with slight tremors. Her cheeks billowed as she let out a breath.

“Mh, clearly”, he deadpanned, hovering as he wasn’t sure what to do. She raised an eyebrow at him. She had been dealing with this for almost her whole life, he could stop fussing over her. Pushing herself up she continued the journey to her bed, crawling onto the covers and curl up into a ball.

“Oh, love”, he sighed as he tugged the blanket from under her and made sure to cover her properly, “I’ll be right back.”

She hummed in acknowledgement as she lay and waited for the painkiller to kick in.

A heating pad on her stomach later and cuddled up in her cardigan she looked up at Lucifer, who was standing at the end of the bed, regarding her with pity.

“My poor Detective”, he sighed as she stretched her arms out for him.

“Cuddles?”

A grin danced across his lips as he crawled along the bed to nestle himself in the space next to her, body curling around hers as his warmth seeped through the fabric to her back. She let out a content sigh. If they could stay like this forever, that would be amazing.

“So”, he began after they had just basked in the other’s presence, “I’ve heard sex can help with easing the monthly torture.”

Chloe groaned, a shudder running along her spine as she thought about moving.

“ _No_ ”, she shook her head with insistence, “absolutely not.”

He was smirking, she knew, as he pressed a kiss below her ear, teeth softly nipping at her earlobe.

“Are you sure about that?”, he murmured, arms sneaking around her to hold her tighter against him.

“Yes”, she huffed, despite the goose bumps that travelled along her arms as she felt him growing hard against the swell of her butt, “Lucifer, I am so sore, just the thought of sex makes me wanna cry.”

“Alright”, he said easily, “What do you want do then?”

An amused smile curled the corners of her mouth. “Is just lying here, doing nothing such a nuisance to you?”

“Mhm, you know me, love.”

“That I do”, for a moment she pondered, “I wanted to read a little, but it’s just really hard to focus right now. Read it to me?”

Her voice was soft and she felt him hum in agreement.

“Is it on the couch?”

“Mhm.”

Slipping away he retrieved it, before they rearranged their bodies to find a comfortable position. They ended up with him leaning against the headboard, while she lay curled up with her head in his lap.

“Right then”, he cleared his throat, “ _Fangirl_ , interesting title, if you ask me. And I am going to ignore the author’s name, I mean – really?”

“Says one Lucifer Morningstar”, she snorted, shaking her head with a yawn, “will you just read it, please?”

“Sorry”, he mused, before he shifted, opened the book at the marked page and raised his voice, “ _And because it wouldn’t matter anyway; Levi was never reasonable. ‘Emergency dance party – go’_ – What on earth qualifies as an emergency dance party?”

“Lucifer”, she admonished with a snort.

“I am just trying to understand the plot, Detective.”

She opened an eye to glare at him and he heaved a sigh, “Very well. ‘ _Emergency dance party – go away.’ ‘Oh no’, Levi said, pushing the door open and sliding in. Too skinny. Too tall_.”

Chloe let her lids drift shut again and enjoyed the rumble of his voice as he read on. The pill had finally started working and the angry pain had turned into a slight, dull throb.

“ _Cath nodded. And nodded. And nodded. Levi nodded back_ – bloody hell, how often can you use the word nodded in what? Nine words?”, he grumbled under his breath and Chloe couldn’t stop the little grin that formed on her lips at his antics. The hand that wasn’t holding the book carded gently through her hair.

_“And then he was dancing with her. Not close or anything. Not any closer, actually – just looking at her face and moving with her_ ”, the hand in her hair halted, “Chloe, please tell me that those two get together eventually. I am frustrated after not even a page of this. How am I supposed to deal with the remaining 300?”

Chloe giggled as he was growing slightly agitated. “I guess we will have to find out, don’t we? Read on.”

And reading on he did, while she slowly drifted off to the sound of his voice and the sense of safety that enveloped her.

A shrill sound tore her out of sleep, having her sit up in an instant. The darkness of the room was disrupted by a blaring screen. Lucifer next to her pushed himself up. The noise subsided.

“Eve?”, tiredness oozed out of his voice. Hasty chatter at the other end of the line.

“Come again? Where are you?”, the slight concern that crept into his voice, had her shake of the vail of slumber.

“Get me the man on the phone, I know him. _Now_ ”, his tone was sharp as he pushed himself upright’s swinging his legs over the bed’s edge, before he started pacing up and down the length of her shoebox.

“What’s wrong?”, she asked quietly as she sat up, only to be forced down by a wave of pain. Oh, for fuck’s sake. His gaze rested on her as he gripped the bridge of his nose. He shook his head at her as if to tell her that everything was just fine. She knew it wasn’t.

“Anthony!”, he said, raising his voice. Chloe wanted to listen in on the conversation, but another cramp had her focus slipping. Lucifer left the room as he proceeded his conversation. She let out an annoyed grunt. She’d already taken something against the pain, why wouldn’t it stop?

The night swam around her as she grit her teeth. She felt a tear that escaped her trail down her skin. She didn’t know how much time had passed, but the door to her bedroom opened again and Lucifer slipped in, his phone tucked between his cheek and his shoulder, while he carried a cup of tea and the little carton box that held the pain killers to place them onto the nightstand, next to her baby Glock.

“No, no worries, darling”, Lucifer’s fingers brushed aside the sweaty strands out of her face, eyes concerned, “I’ll come to pick you up. I’m getting ready now and will be on my merry way.”

He shuffled the phone as he listened intently.

“Yes, I’ll be there. Stay with Anthony. Right? I’ll see you.” He hung up, hand coming up to rub across his face as he let out a groan.

“What’s wrong?”, she croaked as he made his way to the wardrobe.

“Eve got in the middle of a bar fight – she has no money to get herself a cab and well, with my brother out there I am not taking any chances.”

“You could call her an Uber with my account.”

“I’m afraid it will be a little more complicated than that. It’s…”, he regarded her again, an irritated frown pulling his brows together, “She doesn’t feel safe. Beautiful woman alone and inebriated at night, you get my drift. Makes me wish I could break someone’s wrist again – I mean, you don’t bloody harass women without getting away with at least a broken nose.”

“Lucifer”, she admonished weakly, but he saw right through her charade. She would do the nose breaking herself if she could.

She wished she could help and come with him, but no, here she was, unable to move because her uterus had to act up and hurt like a bitch this month.

“So”, she reached for the Tylenol, “You’re going to get her?”

He shrugged on the shirt he had left at her dresser, buttoning it up with a speed and elegance she would never possess.

“Yes. I’ll be back as fast as I can.”

“It’s fine”, she murmured, curling up again.

He paused in his hasty movements, “Not better?”

She shook her head, “I will be fine by tomorrow.” At least she hoped that.

“Alright”, he nodded, sending out a text, before slipping his phone into his back pocket. He came around the bed to crouch down in front of her as pain washed over her anew.

“Are you going to be okay?”, he regarded her with worry.

“I’ll be fine”, she smiled through the cramps, her hand brushing against his shoulder, “I’ve been through a lot worse.”

He huffed, expression soft, “I love you.”

“I love you too”, she whispered and he leaned forward to kiss her.

“I’ll be back soon”, he promised as they separated and he got up, fingers stroking her hair.

“I know. Be careful.”

“Of course, Detective.” With that and a smile he disappeared into the night. She heard the door close behind him. It would pass.

Turned out it wouldn’t pass. Cramps rocked through her body, pills doing nothing to blunt the pain. Tears trickled from the corners of her eyes as she whimpered. The audiobook she had turned on succumbed beneath the waves of hurting limbs. She just wanted someone to be here. She just wanted someone to hold her and the pain to stop. She didn’t know how long it had been since Lucifer had left, but she wanted him to be here. The tea had grown cold after the few sips that she had taken. A stifled sob escaped her. He probably just solved Eve’s problem and was on his way home. Or did he decide to stay with Eve to make sure she was alright? But he would tell her, wouldn’t he?

_Don’t be stupid, Chloe_ , she scolded herself as she took in a deep breath, _he’ll be back soon_. But the doubt that grated her nerves along with the pain that clouded her thoughts. She just wanted to hear his voice, wanted him to hold her against his warm body and for them to drift into sleep together. She just wanted to call him, but something held her back. Was it fear that he would have a better time with Eve than here with her, taking care of her miserable self? Maybe.

Drifting in and out of sleep she writhed in the sheets, not able to find a position that hurt less. Her cheeks were wet from tears that had involuntarily leaked from the corners of her eyes. The first hints of dawn crept into the room when she heard the front door open. Key jingled as they hit something solid. Footsteps.

“Lucifer?”, she managed to raise her voice a little, but it sounded no less hoarse. She heard him head towards her room before the door opened quietly. He slid into the room and she could’ve cried with relief.

“Chloe?”, he said, her name an exhausted word on his tongue. He quickly shrugged out of his clothes before he climbed onto the bed next to her, curling around her. The pads of his thumbs brushed away her tears.

“What’s wrong, love?”

“It hurts”, she whined weakly.

“The whole time?”, he murmured, voice full of concern and empathy.

She nodded against him, slipping further into his arms as he rocked them softly, humming a little melody.

“It’s alright, love”, he hushed her, “I got you. You can go to sleep now.”

Her eyes burned with exhaustion as her body eventually relaxed while he sung – barely above a breath – and she finally fell into Morpheus’ arms.

\---

Their life consisted out of too early, too hasty mornings and workdays that grated on both their nerves. Consisted out of falling into bed next to each other at night, drained and exhausted.

Sleep came slowly and painstakingly for Chloe as she twisted and turned in the sheets, startling awake ever so often to find the comforting warmth of his body next to hers, the soothing nothings that he whispered sleepily into her hair, himself at the verge of unconsciousness. When she tore herself out of sleep again tonight, pearls of sweat rolled along her spine while her senses screamed in alertness. Her fingers sought out his comforting form, only for them to slip through cold sheets and empty air.

“Lucifer?”, she mumbled, sitting up for the blanket to pool in her lap. Her eyes took in the room, bleary and blue silhouettes in the sparing light. Her gun still rested on her bedside table as was Lucifer’s. It was unsettling how the smudges of his training kicked back in as soon as he had understood them to be in danger. A shudder ran along her skin which had nothing to do with the temperature of the room. Carefully her feet slipped out of bed, knowing better then to jump to conclusions. For all she knew, he could be on the toilet. The creak of the very same floorboard in the kitchen that always complained soothed her as she padded over the cool wood, pulling the door of her room slightly open.

The kitchen was only illuminated by orange stripes of light, thick and frayed at the fringes. His name died on her tongue as she took in the hunched figure that absentmindedly put a tea bag into a mug, arm coming up to rub his eyes. The water boiler nestled in the corner was contently simmering as he pulled out his phone, blue light offensive and unwelcome in the mellow dusk of the city. He checked his messages and left the phone out in the open, releasing a slow, shaking breath. His hands raked through his hair, before they came to rest above his face. A low whimper reached her and her heart broke as a second stifled sob made its way out of his mouth.

Her body urged her forward, to hold him and comfort him, but her mind forced her to a screeching halt as he inhaled, too loudly in the quietness of the room, and clearly struggled with his emotions for control. He straightened his posture again, head falling into his neck as he breathed. His cheeks glistened wet in the light of the street lamp. The tea kettle clicked of, signalling that it was finished cooking. He was frozen in his attempt to calm down only to be startled out of his daze as the phone vibrated against the counter. He reached out, air and tension leaving him in a rush. He finally reached out for the hot water, muscles in his arms budging.

Chloe didn’t whether to move back into the safety of her bedroom and leave him be or whether to go and sneak her arms around him. But then he had left bed to have a privacy, didn’t he? He had been stretching himself too thin, had burned himself out in the process of taking care of everybody but himself. Having made up her mind she carefully slotted the door shut and shuffled back to bed, slipping back under the thin covers. Her heart grumbled angrily at her and she understood, she really did. She hated it when he was hurting, but she was aware that there was little she could do when he was sending a clear sign of him wanting to deal with it on his own. She waited. Her breathing back under control she reached for her phone to swipe through social media. He had gotten her hooked on cat videos – no one could judge her, really.

The bedroom felt as safe and homey as it could be even if fear lurked in the shadows in front of her windows. With Lucifer around she felt safer. Maybe it was just the emotional component, but she was also sure that the fact that he could easily incapacitate an intruder in known surroundings contributed to her wellbeing. Even if it was his twin brother. She registered the slow steps that approached her bedroom and the figure that eventually slid inside.

“Hey”, she murmured at him and he froze in his tracks.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t”, she smiled and pulled back the covers. With a slow exhale he made his way towards the bed, the porcelain of his cup clinking softly as it bumped against his gun.

He sat, sliding his feet underneath the blanket.

“Are you okay?”, she asked, hand sneaking along his torso as he settled next to her.

“Just a little untethered, so to speak.”

“You’re seeing him tomorrow?”

He nodded, pulling her into his embrace.

“It will be fine”, she said and even though he never lied, she had no clue whether she was.

“Probably”, he admitted with a shrug, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “I’m just glad when it’s over and done with.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit (09092020; 6:30 p.m. -Austrian time): 
> 
> I have changed a little bit and added a few sentences, because it seemed like a few things were unclear for you peeps - that's on me! Love your comments so much and I know, the situation for Lucifer and Chloe sucks right now on so many fronts, but the issue will be resolved eventually!


	11. What plan?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer finally confronts Michael

Lucifer was glad he refrained from wearing a suit jacket – it was sweltering outside. Sun glittered along the skyline that rose beyond the lines of buildings, reflecting and breaking in their windows to heat up the concrete below them. He fiddled with his ring as he strode along the pavement, shoulders straight and posture deliberately confident. He knew he radiated power, even though sweat clung to his shirt and his heart trembled ever so slightly. It was easy to slip back into the person he had once been, cocky smile and deadly eyes as he strolled towards the park’s entrance. His gaze roamed, seemingly leisurely, with mild disinterest around the trees that threw their shadows onto the paths and the grass below them. One by one he scanned the benches that lazed in the patterns of twigs and leaves that the sun painted only for his eyes to stop at the second to last of them, where a figure lounged, lanky and so painfully familiar. Dark shades sat on his nose as Lucifer got closer, a dark blue T-shirt clinging to his body, while short trousers revealed his knees and calves. He was wearing those dreadful gloves again. He shook his head, halting a little away from his brother.

“Still the only one who’s got style in the family”, he spoke up, “it’s a shame really.”

An amused smirk curled the corner of Michael’s lips.

“Funny, Sammy”, he looked up, taking of his sunglasses.

Brown eyes met, so familiar and yet – and yet Lucifer couldn’t help but feel like facing a stranger. His twin smiled up at him as he scooted a little to the side, patting at the wood beside him.

“Come on, sit!”

“I’d rather not”, he sent him half a calculated grin that had his brother rolling his eyes in exasperation while he buried his hands in his pockets.

“For the last time, I am not here to hurt you or anybody else.”

“Don’t take this personal-”, he shook his head, changing his mind, “no, you know what? _Do_ take this personal – that is _hard_ to believe.”

Michael huffed, shaking his head, “Don’t be melodramatic.”

“I’m not”, his voice curt and sharp and laced with cynicism, “as _lovely_ as bantering with you is, what do you want, Michael?”

The fingers that lay on the backrest, danced across the wood in a way his did when the Doctor wanted to talk about something he was very desperately trying to avoid. His brother wetted his lips, eyes flickering up and down his figure.

“I was looking for you.”

“Mhm”, he made, annoyance creeping up his spine, while his posture stiffened.

His brother scoffed, “Since you disappeared, Sam. Don’t be an idiot, even though I know that’s what you do best.”

There it was again, the anger that thirsted for violence and had his skin crawling. His tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth. At least his twin had the decency to huff a sheepish breath.

“Sorry”, he said, before something vulnerable crept into his gaze, “You were gone, like the ground opened up and swallowed you. I…”, he hesitated as he averted his gaze, “I was worried about you.”

That forced an incredulous laugh out of him, “ _You_? Worried about me?”

„Miracles do happen, brother“, the nonchalance was as fake as his gun permit for New York City.

Honestly, did Michael expect him to buy his airy attitude? Even a complete fool could see the muscle of his jaw jumping. Michael cared, he always had and maybe that was the reason they were in this mess anyhow. A shudder crept along his spine, the phantom ache of grief nested in his chest, prodding and pulsating and the anger and hatred took it as a sign to boil up in his stomach again, spreading across his torso and limbs in a fiery rush that pulsed in his temples.

A growl got swallowed, before he shoved his hands further into his pockets, fingers clenching around air and his lighter. The metal was sleek and lukewarm due to his body and the summer heat. He forced himself to suck in a sharp breath that stung in his nose like snorting Coke did. His mouth drew into a tight line, his tongue wetting his lips as their skin was pulled too tight. The Detective was right, he _did_ have to drink more water. Bloody tasteless if you asked him, but what didn’t you do for love?

“I am giving you 30 seconds to explain to me what you had to do with Eve’s assassination and then I’ll decide whether your explanation is to my taste of not. If not, well”, he shrugged with the same faked nonchalance that Michael spoke with, “I’d get your bloody arse out of my sight.”

His brother nodded, eyes dark, a gloved finger scratching his beard.

“Fair enough.”

“Alright, time starts –“, he pretended to check his watch, “now.”

Michael sat straighter, glanced up to him and his gaze was so very earnest and apologetic, he reminded Lucifer of a kicked Golden retriever. A groan would have escaped him if it wasn’t for his teeth pressed tightly together. _Thanks for that, urchin_.

“I did not give orders to kill Eve. I _promise_ , Samael”, his voice was a low disturbance in the excited shouts and laughter of children in the playground close by. “Uriel’s cohort found out about her and – I did try to get him to stop, I swear, Sam, I tried to stop them from executing their plan, but they – they went through with it. I am so, so sorry, brother.”

Pity and compassion swam in his gaze and even though there was something he was swallowing down, Lucifer knew he wasn’t lying. He wasn’t. He had known this man for his whole life and even though he hadn’t seen the copy of his genetic material in years, he had seen his face every day in the mirror, had seen the frown of frustration and then resignation every day, had seen the way the corners of his mouth pulled downwards every time he allowed himself to wallow in his misery, had seen the hopelessness shining dimly in his dark eyes.

“I – wanted to help her, you have to believe me, Sam. But you know Uriel. Hellbent on making his patterns reality once he sets his mind to it.”

Something fell of his shoulders and lifted of his throat in a sickening lurch and he felt like he could breathe a little easier. Michael hadn’t killed her – or, well attempted to kill her, it was all the same. It was a relief anyhow.

With another huff of air that left his nose he forced himself to loosen this grip around his lighter.

“I believe you”, he eventually said while keeping his voice carefully level.

The relief that rushed through Michael’s whole body was visible as he nodded, his gaze still sticking to him.

The people around them blissfully minding their own business, aside from hungry glances that were thrown at them. Lucifer understood. They did look the same after all, even though the twat of a brother was a lot less handsome than him. He heaved a silent sigh as he regarded his twin, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“Hold on”, he suddenly said, “Were you the one who called me? Sometime in April?”

A head snapped up at that.

“What? No.”

“Michael”, he leered as a grin played with the corner of his mouth despite the whole muck up of a situation, “you did, didn’t you, brother?”

He took in his twin’s posture as he squirmed.

“Hovered there like some creepy stalker, swooning over his beloved’s voice.”

He was laughing now, while Michael blushed faintly.

“Well”, he tried to move on, “it’s nice to know you’re doing alright, despite well… everything.”

Lucifer was still chuckling with mirth as he finally eased his straight spine. He felt his dress shirt sticking to his back with sweat.

“You _are_ fine. Right?”

The anxious hover in his voice didn’t escape him and Lucifer suppressed a growl as he felt himself slowly caving in. Yes, Michael cared too much, but so did he. He wrestled with his conscience for a little longer, before he let himself fall onto the bench, occupying the empty space next to him.

“I’m fine”, he said, voice a little more earnest, a little less cold than before, “Despite everything.”

Michael huffed as his fingers picked at the fabric of his shorts barely reaching his knees not looking at him as he stared straight ahead.

“That’s good”, he hesitated, “I am glad.”

“Never knew you cared, _Mickey_ ”, he quipped back.

“Don’t call me that”, he snapped without heat, “and I’ll always care about you.”

He knew he hated that nickname he had gotten from Amenadiel ages ago.

“Right”, he murmured, fiddling with his ring. In a desperate attempt to preserve his dignity he was glad Michael didn’t mention it, even though he was sure he was smiling at it. Silence hung above them, neither of them sure of what to say.

He was swimming helplessly – because now that the most apparent issue was out of the way he didn’t know what to do. He had struggled to communicate with Michael by something else but snappish comments and waspish banter, even when they were talking to each other – but now? What was he supposed to do? Start talking about the weather or worse about some other stereotypical male bonding event like football? His fucked up family business beware, no.

“So”, he eventually said, settling on the least meaningless of the typical small talk prompts – hah, the irony of it being the most controversial topic he could’ve chosen – that came to his mind, “How are thing’s hanging in _Heaven_?”

Michael barked a laugh that was more of a biting sound than anything else, “Divine as always.”

Lucifer actually couldn’t supress the snort that escaped him. At least his humour had gotten better from what he could tell. His ignored the little glance Michael threw him.

“Well, aside from that”, a deep sigh, “business as always I suppose. I mean, Amenadiel is still the same presumptuous dick, shooing everybody around so everybody is continuing to do God’s work –“

Lucifer flinched at the mention of his father, no matter how casually it had been dropped. Did Michael still have his wings? He was being silly, of course he did. After all it had been himself who had cut them out of his back, not Michael. Two angels sitting on a park bench, one fallen by choice, one still holy. His scars felt tight and numb against the damp fabric of his shirt.

“Gabriel is still horrible at playing horn. She will never learn it, the poor sod. But Azrael has found a man, currently carrying his little imp.”

_Rae._ His ribcage expanded tremulously as he thought of the tiny woman – tiny but deadly and still so very lovely. Dark eyes peering up at him through black and horribly cut bangs, shimmering behind the thick rims of her glasses. His fingers turned too warm and sweaty metal faster between his fingers.

“How – how is Rae-Rae?”

His question was soft and he was sure Michael noticed.

“She is doing well, balancing being the Angel of Death and a soon to be mother perfectly, you know her – the little over achiever that she is.”

A wistful smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, trying to quench the twinge of jealously that clawed its ways through the fond memory of the woman who had always been like a little sister to him, still was.

“She was devastated when you disappeared.”

Michael trailed off, a little lost in his own train of thought as if he was reminiscing. Lucifer regarded him from the corner of his eye. When he had left his past behind he hadn’t calculated the way that old wounds that were torn open and attacked with a bloody stick still hurt like a motherflunker. At least Rae had a life now, somebody she loved and that loved her in return, a child she could care for with all the might that her big heart desired to.

“Well, then tell her my congratulations for the whole offspring situation and tell her – tell her I still remember her very dearly.”

Silence met him as his twin turned to face him with serious eyes, tongue wetting his lip as he contemplated his words.

“Sam, I only found out where you are a few months ago. And I only realised you were alive a year back. Azrael doesn’t know – nobody – they think you’re dead or at least gone for good, brother. I am sorry.”

He scoffed, tilting his head back to get a glimpse at the unyielding sky that boiled the city alive right now. How was he supposed to deal with LA on their vacation?

“Then I did something right I suppose.”

“You sure did, Sam.”

Silence fell upon them once more.

“So – what now?”

“What do you mean?”, his twin tilted his head the same way Chloe did when she was confused.

“It was a lovely chat and all that, but what do you _want_ from me?”

“I”, Michael swallowed, hesitant as he struggled with himself, “I want to … I missed my brother, Sammy. I _missed_ you.”

* * *

“So what? That’s why he’s here? Because he missed you? And you believe that?” Her voice was incredulous, shrill, “I mean, the first time you see him in years and you threaten to kill him and now everything is fine because he said he _missed_ you?”

He threw his hands up in irritation.

“Yes.”

She couldn’t believe this. How could he just forgive him?

“No. Oh, for fuck’s sake. I don’t know!”

He was pacing up and down her kitchen – barely more than two steps for him. She regarded him with a frown. What the heck?

“It’s Michael, so I will never bloody know!”

“I thought Michael was the bad one, the one that killed Eve!”

“No, well. They are all bad, so to speak. But Uriel killed Eve.”

Her head was swirling with information and she slumped down on the chair at her table.

“Okay – so if Uriel is responsible for Eve’s assassination, what is Michael then?”

Lucifer raked a hand through his hair, “A bastard, but I don’t presume that’s what you meant?”

She closed her eyes in frustration. “No, Lucifer. What’s Michael’s role in all of Caelum’s business?”

“He’s a commander, Detective, do keep up.”

She could have shot him right then and there.

“Yes, I know that –“

He continued speaking as if she hadn’t even said something.

“Michael commands one of the four cohorts as one of the “archangels” if you would go after the bible. And well. He always got to delegate his tasks, the twat.”

“And?”

He threw her an incredulous look, “And what?”

“Well, what is his angle for being here?”

“He misses me.”

“Uhu”, she made staring at him with a mix of irritation and mild fascination. He squirmed under her gaze.

“Well”, he tried to explain, “after all he is still my brother”, he had finally slowed down, “and he always cared too much. So if he says he was worried about me”, he heaved a sigh before he let himself fall onto the chair next to her.

“As much as I want to believe you”, Chloe began tentatively, “You are biased, Lucifer. Don’t forget that.”

“By two decades of hatred and anger, yes I know.”

“Not what I meant.”

“Yes, but what _I_ meant. Look, I understand. Our first encounter hasn’t left quite the pleasant impression –“

“You don’t say”, she murmured under her breath.

“- but, that’s my twin we are talking about. I know when he is lying, I know all his tells. And I also know that – as pathetic as it is – he is just worrying about me. Don’t get me wrong, he is still a prick and he could very well have gone full Anakin Skywalker to Darth Vader, but his heart is a soft mush of goo underneath the surface.”

“He is a commander of a crime syndicate”, she tried to remind him.

“Underneath the surface, Detective”, he countered, “On the outside he is a bastard. Simple as that.” 

Her hands came up to massage her temples. Okay. No evil twin brother then – if it came to Lucifer.

“And now?”, she fixed her eyes on him, while he cocked his head, hands innocently lifted.

“Why are you looking at me like I am supposed to have a plan?”


	12. St. Petersburg 13th of May 2013: Time and Patience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael meets Eve once again in St. Petersburg.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning peeps! 
> 
> I added a smut warning to the works of "Two sides of paradise" for all those who don't want to read explicit sexual content. The beginning and end of the scene is marked by three asterixes (***) and anything remotely important for the plot will be covered in the end notes. 
> 
> Dasivdanja is the transcript of the Russian word До свидания, meaning "Goodbye."
> 
> The Eremitage is one of the biggest and most famous art museums in the whole world.
> 
> The quote "The strongest of all warriors are these two — Time and Patience" is from the books War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy, a Russian writer. 
> 
> Well then, I will let you guy move on from this little info box to the actual chapter! Have fun!

_ St. Petersburg 13th of May 2013 _

_His eyes roamed over the sentences, melting together into stories and characters, his tongue flitting out to wet his lips. The little pink post it had been smoothed down that often he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to separate it from the page ever again. It might not be in original language, but it would have to suffice. Getting up he pushed past a woman with her child, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards as the baby found his eyes, squeaking happily at the attention it got. His fingers tapping against the cover of his book he wiggled his eyebrows and flashed the toddler a grin that had it giggling in delight._

_“Dasivdanja”, he murmured politely at the mother that blushed ever so slightly._

_He tried to shake off the smell of damp hallways and ancient dust as he strode up to the surface. A breeze met his skin as he made it out of the underground. His eyes roamed around the little court, searching for dark hair, long hair. Where was she? His lips eased into a smile as he caught the small woman, waving a timid hand. Accelerating his steps he made his way towards her._

_“Hello”, he grinned at her._

_“Hi”, she said, hiding a little yawn behind the back of her hand, eyes twinkling up at him. The light of the early sun blinked through the few tree’s crowns and painted shadows onto the concrete._

_“Someone needs her coffee”, he teased her, one hand shoved into his pocket the other still drumming a little rhythm onto the cover of his book, gloved fingers dampening their sound._

_“Mhm”, she made, “desperately. I’m getting one to go and then we walk?”_

_“With pleasure”, he grinned, unable to stop himself, even if he did try to reign his smile._

_Having gotten the lack of caffeine out of the way they resumed their path over the Troitskij bridge, a path they had walked before a year ago, had eventually talked about God and everything else._

“The whole angel and heaven theme is a bit ridiculous, don’t you think?”, _she had asked, shaking her head in confusion._

_He had only hummed in agreement and somehow it had stuck with him._

_When Uriel had come, wanting a report of the first commander of the archangels he had had to chuckle. He still wanted to tear his brother’s throat out, thank you very much, but at least he got some kind of kick out of hearing him babble to the dogmata of Caelum._

_Now the sun had decided it was going to be a good day as they made their way across the Neva. She was rambling on about some gossip in a way he knew her to do if she needed to get settled enough for a topic and he let her, humming in agreement and soaking up every little bit she told him about her colleague’s quarrel._

_“I think they are having an affair.”_

_He laughed at how sure she sounded as she looked up to him. She was tiny. Her frame lingered at his side, shoulder brushing his and it did funny things to his stomach. On a whim he lifted his hands to carefully pull of his gloves, a sudden wave of self-consciousness washing over him, cold as the water of the river below him the last time he had been here. He felt exposed, scars too prominent on his skin, reminding him of just how weak he had been. How foolish he had been to believe his brother would care for him as he himself did. He didn’t like taking them off, but a part of him yearned to feel her hand in his again, so soft and small and sure. He wasn’t sure of anything lately._

_He let his hand drop down again, hoping for it to be casual. His gloves got shoved into one of his pockets._

_They walked, sharing bits and pieces of themselves and the past half a year. The backs of their hands bumped into each other every now and again and it had his heart trembling in excitement._

_He took a slow breath, nodding as she told him about the little bookstore she was working in, of how kind her colleagues were to her, of how much she had read already and his finger brushed against the back of her hand as if he was knocking, begging to be let in as he always did when he came to this city. To her._

_Not looking at him a smile formed on her lips, tiny, nearly imperceptible as she turned her hand, her fingers slipping between his as easily as one was breathing and slotted into the gaps between his fingers. Carefully he closed his hand, a rush of happiness had his heart lurching._

_They walked, hand in hand and she lead him towards the places that had become dear to her over the years. The Eremitage holding all the art one could wish for – Eve had told him about her favourite works, her excitement was contagious – the little trolls carved out of wood in the Michailowski park – the irony wasn’t lost to him – they sat in the grass of said park, throwing little pebbles into the water, at some point he had let himself fall back, his feet planted into the ground with his knees bent, pulling her halfway with him._

_She had just laughed and lay down next to him, gazing up into the blue. He loved how normal it felt, how_ ordinary _he felt and his hand caged in hers, he felt free. They talked about literature and food and travelling, about everything but Sam or his family and he loved it. At some point they had gotten up and walked back, just to see the fortress basking in the sun like a cat after a long and cold winter. They halted, Eve longingly staring onto the water. The wind tugged at the fabric of her dress, like wine and deoxygenated blood. She was a warrior braving the odds, like the fortress braving the weathers, with her skirt billowing through which ever storm she would walk._

_“_ The strongest of all warriors are these two — Time and Patience”, _he quoted War and Peace and she smiled as she looked at him._

_“You read it?”_

_“Naturally”, he said and laughed as she did._

_“We’ll get through this, won’t we?”, she asked as she leaned against the balustrade. He followed her._

_“We will”, he said, “I promise.”_

_And like his brother he refused to lie._

_When he left the next morning, he regarded her with contemplating eyes before he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to her cheek, pulling his gloves back on. She waved after him from the stairs as he disappeared into the beginning of another half a year._


	13. Those dreadful romantic novels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe and Lucifer go out on a date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning peeps! 
> 
> I just quickly wanted to mention that there is a smut warning for those of you who do not want to read explicit sexual content in the form of three asterixes (***) at the beginning and ending of a smut scene so you can just skip over it. Anything remotely important for the plot in said scene will be covered in the end notes of the chapter! 
> 
> I cannot tell you how grateful I am for the support and community on this platform! I appreciate you guys so much!

Chloe nervously fiddled with the cup in her hand, her brows furrowed in concentration as she let her gaze drift across the battlefield that was her kitchen. Vegetables and fruit cut into pieces, half prepped Hawaiian sandwiches ready to be toasted and knifes with streaks of white cream on its blade. If she was lucky she would have just enough time before –

“Honey, I am home!”, the door had opened with its rhythmic clacking and rattling as a deep, British voice rung through her home. A giggle swallowed the very last vowel, while she froze in her tracks as a doe would in headlights. “Ah, I love saying that.”

Shit. Her eyes widened. He couldn’t be back yet!

“Uh, didn’t you say you were done at half past eleven, love?”, she tried to keep her voice as level as she could, but the little pitch it did at the end didn’t escape her.

“Didn’t take as long as I thought”, Lucifer chuckled as his shoes came to rest with a soft thump. A second thump.

She willed her muscles to move and to hurry over to the tiny hallway. He grinned at her as she managed to smile at him – reassuringly as she hoped and not as if she was trying to keep his focus on her.

“Hey, love.”

She would never get used to that, would she? Her smile morphed into something tender, more natural.

“Hey, you.”

She lifted her head to peck his lips and made a soft sound at the back of her throat as his hands slipped up to cup her face and as he melted against her. Screw her plan, that she hadn’t even formulated inside her head, this was a much better distraction. Pushing her cup onto the little crooked cupboard in the hallway, her hands found their way to his collar, the back of his nape and the kiss hello turned into more of a heated make out session.

“Detective”, he panted against her lips, “I do like where this is going.”

“Shut up”, she murmured as she captured his lips again, they were too far away. He didn’t protest at all but hummed against her mouth. Her tongue slipped between his lips, brushed boldly against his and he sighed. Her mind was so caught up in trying to figure out how to maneuver him to the bedroom without him getting a glimpse of the kitchen, that she missed the way he grinned against her mouth. She let out a little whine as he pulled away, if only a few inches. His eyes roamed over her face, before he rumbled.

“What are you trying to hide, Detective?”

Her half lidded eyes snapped open, her lips still pursed.

“What?”

Oh, that was way too high. She cringed inwardly. He snorted and she tried to save what was left to save.

“What makes you think that I’m hiding something?”

No matter how hard she tried to ban the pitch from her voice, her innocent question was still way too pitched.

“I squeezed your bum and you didn’t react”, he simply explained with an amused smirk and a shrug, “and I did try to move you towards well, somewhere more comfortable than the hallway, but you’re holding your position like a Grenadier Guard in front of the Buckingham palace.”

She opened her mouth to retort something. Something witty. Snarky, maybe.

“No!”, she blurted out as Lucifer simply nudged her to the side and marched into the living area with a perfect view onto the mess of a kitchen.

He turned, frowning, his gaze swinging between her and the counter.

“Why does our kitchen look like the urchin had a blast in it?”

She gaped like a fish, searching for something to say, too flustered at how he had called it _their_ kitchen.

“Chloe?”, he sounded dare she say concerned. Pressing her lids shut for a moment, cursing the universe for its timing, she sighed. Opening them again she explained, if somewhat flustered.

“I… it’s been such a stressful time and I thought maybe we could, like… do something together”, she gestured at the litany of food on the surfaces of the tiny counter, “like… a date?”

She tried very hard not to think about the way heat crept up her face.

He stared at her, not comprehending.

“Ah… cleaning as a date? I mean, who am I to object to an excuse to spend time with you, but…”

“No”, she cut in, rolling her eyes at the ceiling, “I”, her breath left her in a bone deep sigh. So much to her surprise.

“I was preparing food for a picnic, but you came home early so that’s that.”

“Picnic?”

“Yeah. Just the two of us, to get out of the apartment and some fresh air and just talk and”, he was staring at her as she rambled. Oh, this had been a bad idea, “You know what, never mind. This was a –“

“You…”, he paused as he interrupted the rush of words that had left her lips, a small grin forming. Disbelieving. Happy. Tender. “You planned a date for us? And the food. For… for us?”

“Yeah”, she nodded, not knowing what to do with her hands or her gaze as she tried to occupy them somehow. She very nearly had missed the brilliant grin that spread across his face.

“I love you”, he said, breathless. She bit her lip as blush rose furiously in her cheeks.

“So, you… you wanna go on a picnic?”

She shuffled tentatively from one leg to another.

“Of course I bloody do, love.” He grinned at her.

_Nobody would picnic as well as they did,_ he had decided and promptly taken over the control over the kitchen regimen. They packed tomatoes and mozzarella into a box, cut up apples and slices of melon into the other. The grapes escaped her grip and she had to chase after them across the flat while he laughed. The sandwiches got toasted and salad stirred and the noodles of yesterday were put into a jar. She had gotten one of her blankets out of the closet and packed it into the big bag, along with all the food that Lucifer had insisted to take with them. His eyes gleamed with joy and a little smile spread on his face as he took their improvised picnic basket, ready to go.

“Where to, Detective?”

They settled down in Central Park, not far from where they had met the first time. The crème colored blanket spread, she unpacked, watching Lucifer from the corner of her eye as he toed off his shoes and sat. His hands hovered, eager to help, but she just batted them away.

“We won’t have any food left if you get your hands on it”, she told his confused expression that quickly morphed into affront.

“I would never!”

She lifted her eyebrow, “Or open everything to taste it and then claim you’re not hungry anymore?”

“That happened _one_ time.” 

She laughed at the pout that formed on his lips as she pulled a bag of snacks out and threw them for him to catch them, just to see his face light up in excitement.

“You got me Cool Ranch Puffs?”

“Sure did”, she winked as he ripped the bag open, beaming like Trixie when she got to eat chocolate cake – she missed her. She let out a little sigh. She had probably dragged Dan to Santa Monica Pier already. And probably chewed his ear off about wanting a puppy.

“Thank you, Chloe”, Lucifer’s voice pulled her back from her thoughts and she reciprocated his brilliant smile.

“You’re welcome. See it as my sacrifice to Satan’s stomach.”

He laughed at that and the corners of her mouth twitched into a wide grin. She shoved the doubt, the nagging reminder that she hadn’t told him about her investigation yet back into the abyss of her subconscious.

Resting on the blanket, her legs folded under each other she sat while Lucifer had decided to lounge like the rich Romans did when they feasted, as he popped puff after puff into his mouth. In his grey button down he looked good enough to eat instead of the food they had prepared, and it should be a crime to be that appealing. At least they hadn’t brought honey. He had the habit of dipping two of his fingers into the jar, fingers that would normally dip into her and then suck the sweet, viscous and golden condiment of his fingers in a way that had her blushing.

“Melon?”

The orange cube hovered in front of her face as Lucifer held it towards her.

“Uh”, she made, flustered as she simply opened her mouth and let him feed her. It was sweet and it was cheesy and a little bit cringy, but it was okay. It was Lucifer and how could she refuse, if he smiled at her as if she was the most adorable human being he had ever had the pleasure to lay eyes upon.

They ate in companionable banter; one time she had to laugh while drinking, causing the liquid to shoot straight out of her nose and Lucifer had been howling with glee and disgust as he passed her napkins. Not even her glare could bring him to shut up as he chortled.

“Not funny, Lucifer”, she growled as she squinted, nostrils still burning.

“Oh, the opposite, it’s very funny”, he grinned, “it went all like _whooosh._ ”

She rolled her eyes.

“How old are you? Twelve?”

“You know”, he continued, completely ignoring her, “other people have their nose up so high it rains into it, but you. It rains out of your nose.”

She facepalmed as he had another fit of laughter.

“Right get it all out”, she murmured, stabbing the noodles a little harder than she had meant to. 

“Sorry, love. That’s more your area of expertise”, he gestured at her nose and she glared at him.

He was still grinning wide enough for the corners of his mouth to drag up to his ears as she shook her head at him.

“You are ridiculous”, she admonished lightly.

“But you love it”, he teased and smirked when she couldn’t deny it nor suppress the smile that formed on her lips.

He chuckled as he reached out for the sandwiches, happiness twinkling in his features.

“You know”, he said as he opened the box, grabbing one of the toasts and taking a bite, “I love thoshe.”

Sometimes he was even worse than Trixie.

“Swallow before you – never mind”, she amended with a groan as he winked at her, “I know you do. Even so much so that you snatched the one for Trixie the last time.”

She threw him a little accusing glare. He tried to protest as he swallowed, mouth opening and closing as he didn’t know what to say.

“Touché”, he finally relented with a hum, before he shoved the whole sandwich or what was left of it into his mouth. Chloe lifted her eyebrow in respect.

“That was one big bite”, she murmured. He was smirking even when he was chewing.

“I had far larger things in my mouth, love”, he said and her brain blanched for a second. Pictures of Lucifer’s lips wrapped around another man’s dick danced through her mind.

She shook her head, trying to fight the blush in her cheeks.

“Nope. Can’t unsee that now.”

He giggled and brushed off his pants before he crawled over to her to close the little distance between them.

“You know you’re the only one for me, Detective”, he purred, stealing a quick peck. A little dopey smile stole itself onto her lips.

“I am?”, she murmured, chasing his retreating mouth.

“Mhm, of course you are, love.”

They melted against each other in another kiss; slow and happy. They parted for air, foreheads bumping into each other.

“How are you so charming though?”, she pulled away after a moment, “I mean those lines need to come from somewhere.”

His lips twitched in amusement and she wanted to kiss him again.

“What if I told you it was part of my captivating essence?”

“Then I’d want to know the truth.”

He pondered, pulling her into his arms for her to rest against his chest. His heart thumped rhythmically against her ear.

“Matthew Hussey and those dreadful, romantic novels that Eve is always reading.”

Chloe laughed at that, knowing he didn’t detest “ _those dreadful, romantic novels_ ” even half as much as he pretended to. He had finished reading _Fangirl_ without her, trying to hide this minor detail by simply putting in the bookmark back to where it was before, but he was in a relationship with a detective. He had dog-eared some page at the back and along with a subtle stain of something that had carried the faint smell of whiskey on page 400 – paper fringing as he had tried to pat the liquid dry – the evidence was speaking for itself.

She shook her head in fondness as she sighed into his shirt, his hand coming up to brush back a strand of her hair, only for him to linger and play with it.

“What is it?”, he rumbled tenderly.

“Nothing”, she chuckled, nestling further against his chest.

“Hm.” He rested his head on hers, making him sit a little hunched, “I love you, you know that?”

A soft grin spread on her lips as she hummed into his chest. “I love you too.”

He squeezed her tighter and she could swear she heard his heart sing with joy. Having tidied up the litany of boxes and having made space for the two of them, she rested her head on his chest as they lay, staring up into a blue sky.

“It reminds me of home”, she said, “LA, I mean.”

His fingers drew circles on her shoulder as he nodded, head resting on his other hand.

“Go on”, he murmured, warm and tender.

She pondered for a moment, exhaling a breath, “The sky is so strikingly blue on days like this. Those black spots of tar on the street become soft again. I always put my finger into it when I was younger. My fingers still itch to do that.”

He chuckled.

“It smells like salt and the ocean when I’m at my Mom’s place. We can go to the beach from there by foot. The wind is hot, but somehow still refreshing at least when it comes from the seaside. Trix and I made a game of jumping over the waves like jumping across a rope. She loves it. And her little legs always catch in the waves. But she loves it all the more.”

She trailed off. She missed her Monkey. She missed the ocean, missed soft and hot sand between her toes and sunsets on her Mom’s porch. Her mother’s place was the one that connected her most to her Dad. She missed Ella’s quirkiness.

“You miss it, don’t you?”

She turned to face him at the quiet question.

“Don’t you miss home?”

He tilted his head with a little, woeful smile, “How can I miss home, when it’s right here?”

“Lucifer”, she whispered.

“It’s true, Chloe. I mean the house where I grew up in certainly wasn’t home and after Eve’s – well not death, but somehow death – I was lost in a way I couldn’t even comprehend. But then there were you and the little urchin and”, he released a little breath, smile forming, “I am just not lost anymore.” 

“I love you”, she pressed out, grinning, part delighted, part desperate, “I just really, really love you.”

“And I you, Detective.”

With that she surged up and kissed him as he met her halfway, fingers burying themselves in her hair as his lips whispered all the feelings he couldn’t convey against hers. They parted for air, panting softly as he grinned.

“We should go on a vacation. To LA.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. End of summer and when we leave we take the urchin back home with us.”

She grinned, brilliantly and it felt like flying.

“You miss her already?”

“I miss her a bloody lot, love”, he chuckled, “don’t tell her though.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah. Let’s do that. Let’s go on a vacation.”

\---

With similar, dopey smiles they sat in the subway – they had gotten lucky enough to find a seat – hands intertwined as they grinned. Lucifer had made a pitstop before they had made their way home, probably to get another pack of his high-end cigarettes. The air was stuffy and sweltering and she just put her sweaty forehead against his shoulder for him to press a kiss to the top of her head.

“What did you get?”, she said, muffled by his upper arm as she pointed at the bag in his hand. He wouldn’t need those just for cigarettes would he?

“At home, love.”

“I thought your home was where I am?”, she teased and he laughed.

“Patience, Detective. I know, not one of your virtues.”

Rolling her eyes she pouted, knowing he couldn’t see it.

“I _am_ patient.”

“You just hate surprises, I know”, he grinned, wiping the sweat of his forehead. She couldn’t wait to be out of the stuffy sauna of a wagon and get home. Probably take a shower and proceed right to tearing Lucifer’s clothes off of him and steaming hot sex. She shook her head, amused at herself before she focused on ignoring the sweat that rolled along her spine, causing her to shudder.

She couldn’t have been more grateful for the soft breeze that brushed along her hair as they made their way along the street, yearning for the cold of the stairway in her building. She couldn’t even be bothered to hold his hand, as sweaty and uncomfortable as her limbs felt. Arriving at her flat was heaven as she pushed a window open as well as the door to the stair way, waiting for the draft to freshen up the sluggish air in her home. Their home. They had cleaned up the disaster of a kitchen before they left, not even Trixie’s toys were littering the floor. It bothered her more than she thought it would.

Paper crinkled and it had her turning around to face a little timid looking Lucifer.

“What is it?”, she laughed with a smirk, “did you get me lingerie, because you can’t see my granny panties anymore?”

She gestured at the bag in his hand.

“Pfsh, no”, he actually sounded affronted at that, “those are adorable. I, well… see for yourself.”

He pressed the bag into her hand, eyeing her closely as she opened it and pushed her hand into it. Her fingers touched soft fabric, threads running parallel and smoothly through her fingers. Her eyes grew wide as she looked him, then back at the bag and pulled out a dress shirt in a shade of blue that she knew would complement not only her complexion, but the whole rest of her.

“It’s beautiful”, she said, smile forming on her lips as her fingers slid over the fabric.

“It’s ah,” he made, “it’s a linen-cotton blend, quite nice quality and it will be cool and breathable enough for work and I know you like those.”

As she opened her mouth he brushed her off, “Don’t worry about the money, love. I saw it a few days ago and I just thought maybe you would like it. Do you like it?”

His face was a mixture of excitement and nervousness and she nodded.

“I love it”, she told him and watched his eyes light up in happiness.

“Try it on”, he urged her, grin spreading wide over his face.

“But I am sweaty.”

“Then shower! Chop, chop!”, he shooed her off and she had to admit his excitement was infectious.

The price tag of the dress shirt had already been cut off and she grumbled a little under her breath, before stripping of her clothes and hoping into the shower to get rid of the sweat that stuck to her skin like Trixie’s hands after eating her favorite dessert. Water rolled in cascades along her body, the smile in her lips only widening as she hopped out, feeling light in a way she only did around Lucifer. A little smirk forming she kicked the heap of clothes aside and pulled only her new shirt on, marveling in how luxurious the fabric felt on her skin. Her reflection glanced at her for a moment, marveling in the happiness in her eyes and the joy in her features before she padded out into the living area, bare feet still a little wet.

“How does it look?”

She brushed one of her strands back, expression morphing into a bright grin at the sun light that kissed her little potted plant on the window ledge. She loved the way sunlight felt on her skin, warm and comforting, golden and happy even if that made little sense. She turned back, squinting as her hair hit her with the momentum it had gained.

Lucifer’s hip was propped against the couch and a smile curled his lips.

“Like my very own miracle.”

She chuckled as she made her way over to him, stretching for her hands to cross behind his neck.

“Was that Hussey or some _dreadful, romantic novel_?”

“It was the truth, love”, he winked and sealed their lips in a kiss, his hands wandering down her body, from her waist to her hips.

With an excited sound he pulled back.

“No, knickers, Detective! Are you having plans?”

She grinned up at him nibbling on his lower lip.

“Why don’t you find out, Satan?”

She laughed at the expression of sheer glee that lit up his features. He pulled away, hurrying to close the flat’s door.

***

“We don’t want to give the neighbours a show, do we? Not that I would oppose but – “

Chloe rolled her eyes with a chuckle as she called, “Get on with it. You don’t leave a lady waiting.”

The door shut and Lucifer reappeared, stalking towards her, “Far be it for me to disappoint my detective.”

Stretching her arms out for him she pulled him closer, pressing her lips against his again. His hands splayed across her hips, the other rested on her butt as he plundered her mouth, his grip growing tighter. She loved it when he got like this, it had her dizzy with desire, but it didn’t matter, because he was taking the lead, maneuvering her just the way he wanted and the way he knew she liked. His lips trailed along her neck, sucked bruises to her skin that had her legs growing weak. They found her way up to the sensitive skin just below her ear, his teeth caught her earlobe.

“Be a good Detective for me and turn around, will you?”

His voice was a low rumble that had her thighs shaking in anticipation and the intoxicating tingle of lust intensifying. With a breathless nod she let her hips be turned by him, her hands found the backrest of the couch as he nudged her spine down and her forward. His palms marveled at her figure, brushed along her waist, her lower back, hips, ass.

“You are so bloody hot, Chloe”, he sighed, nearly dreamily.

“Thank you, you are not too bad yourself - ”, she quipped, only for the last syllable to morph into a drawn out moan as his oh so talented fingers slipped between her folds, one of them slipping into her already. They moved in circles and languid strokes and he groaned behind her.

“So wet for me. So ready for me. Are you, Detective?”

All she could do was nod through the haze. She whined a little as his fingers left her, swallowing thickly when she could hear them sliding into his mouth as he sucked her juices off of them. She could nearly see it in front of her, aside from the fact that she was bent over the couch in her living area, shaking and waiting.

A belt buckle clinked, a zipper was dragged down and fabric fell into a heap on the floor.

“Shit”, he mumbled underneath his breath.

“What is it?”, concern made it through the vail of anticipation.

“Need to get a condom from the bedroom, just a second –“

“It’s fine”, she rushed to say, “Just – just, _please._ I need you.”

She could feel him pausing behind her –

“Really? I can – “, her nod cut his sentence short and he groaned, “You _are_ going to be the end of me.”

His hands gripped her hips tightly, his thumbs brushing circles against the skin underneath the light fabric of the dress shirt that was now bunched up a little below her waist.

Any rational though evaded her as his cock nudged her folds apart, found her entrance and slowly pushed into her. A broad hand was splayed across her spine while he thrusted into her with all the patience and care in the world. Her thighs shook and a whine left her lips, gratefully taking him in inch by wonderful inch. When he finally bottomed out in her, with a gasp that had her blood singing and her moaning his name he bent down, his body covering hers with his and she wanted to melt through the layers of fabric.

“Lucifer”, she sighed only for her mouth to open into a soundless “oh” as he pushed into her.

“You feel like heaven, love”, he murmured, a slight breathlessness in his voice, while his exhale was hot against her ear and his arm snuck around her waist, the other steadying her hip as he sped up his movements. She was reduced to a heap of whimpers and moans as her body shook with the force of his thrusts, readily falling apart as his fingers teased her clit, while he was hard and thick inside her, before he came with a silent gasp and her name on his lips.

With shallow movements he came down from his high, his body still covering hers. A content hum had his chest vibrating against her back as he turned his head to capture her lips, his stubble brushing lovingly against her skin. His lips tasted like sweat and salt. He blinked at her as they separated, eyes crinkling and he chuckled.

“Best bloody plan ever.”


	14. Rock solid evidence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Detective does the detecting right and figures it out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning peeps! (a tiny bit later than normal - XD)
> 
> Oooof, it has been a busy few weeks for me - the labs at my uni opened again, meaning I had courses to visit, protocols to write, chapters to edit and to continue on with the story (the first draft of this story is nearly finished, btw!^^)
> 
> I have to express my gratitude for the amazing [ Ana_ana ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ana_ana/pseuds/Ana_ana) for beta - ing this chapter in order to get hick ups out and get the case work right! So kudos to you, you are a queen!
> 
> Of course I also have to thank my lovely beta [ kitlyn_221B ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitlyn_221B/pseuds/kitlyn_221B) for helping me along on my journey and motivating and inspiring me along the way! 
> 
> And I naturally appreciate all of you peeps reading this story and commenting to the chapters, who are invested in what the heck I fabricate XD
> 
> It should be said that this is where the storm sets in and believe me guys, the next chapters are going to be angsty and they are going to be emotionally tough, not only for our characters, but also for you, should you be a reader that emphasises with the characters very easily. 
> 
> Lucifer's infertility will be discussed, there will be past trauma, past domestic abuse, past drug abuse and its effect on life after recovery, torture, betrayal - a hell of a lot of pain if I may say so myself. Please read the next chapters with care. ( I cried during one or two, that being said - yes, I know I am the person who writes this - I emphasise very easily with the characters in my story XD) 
> 
> I will not let you wait any longer! 
> 
> Sending you a whole lot of my love!

They didn’t have a plan, so that was that. Lucifer was still on edge, that she could tell, from the way his eyes would rove around the streets when they left the house, from the way he kissed her a little more desperately when they parted, held her a little tighter at night. And Chloe? Well, Chloe wouldn’t be the detective she always wanted to be if she put her investigation to rest. She didn’t come that far already only to come that far. Which didn’t mean that she wasn’t nervously fiddling with her sleeves as she waited, uncomfortable and with her gut churning as she waited for the other person.

Her week had been filled up with cases and the time she had squeezed in still sufficed to make significant progress. Transactions were observed, air travel. Maria had a friend at Interpol look up the name Michael Johnson in their system – they had been keeping track of the crime syndicate over the years – and mail her what she had found. There had been air travel to St. Petersburg – not under his name, but an ID that matched his to the ‘t’, aside from the name. Maria had assured her James – she had thought that that _had_ to be the most British name one could choose – knew for a fact it was Michael’s. His Visa form had given her the address he was staying at – not far from where the suspect of the Eden case, Leia Michaelnova had lived for years.

_I am staying with Leia, but you know, does he even know I am alive?_

_It’s just something Evja – ah, a friend of mine always said._

_She’s still at home in Russia._

She held the thin Manilla folder a little tighter as she rapped her fingers against its back. Where was she?

“Detective Decker?”, a voice behind her said and Chloe turned, a smile stretching across her lips – it was artificial enough to make the corners of her mouth hurt.

“Thank so much for meeting me, Miss Michaelnova", Chloe tried her best to stay as calm as possible. Her insides were tossing and turning as she greeted her.

“Sure, no problem. Is this about Marco?”

Her dark brows were a worried line on her forehead as she burrowed her hands inside her oversized jacket’s pocket. Chloe would’ve asked how she wasn’t dying from heat at the heavy fabric, but then again, at least she did wear something, because the hot pants she wore could barely be described as _something._

“No, this is not about Marco’s death. It’s”, she released a breath, “a little more personal.”

“Alright”, she nodded, her gaze drifting to her phone, “I have about 15 minutes, sorry, it’s been quite busy with getting another roommate and stuff.”

“Mhm”, Chloe made, trying her best to sound interested, even though she knew exactly why the woman needed a new roommate.

“Let’s get inside, okay?”

She led her inside to one of the tables she had been eying for the last ten minutes, glaring angrily at everyone that had tried to take a seat. They sat, their orders quickly arriving in front of them.

“Miss Michaelnova…”

“Leia, please. If this is, as you said, personal, I think we can skip the formalities.”

Chloe raised her brows in surprise but nodded.

“Okay. Great. I am Chloe.”

“Pleasure”, she smiled – if a little suspicious as her eyes flickered with a hint of a realization.

“Right, so Leia. You mentioned you were from St. Petersburg?”

“Yeah. Exactly.”

Chloe smiled, trying her best to seem inviting, open the way Lucifer managed to pull off so well.

“Must be very different from here.”

“It is”, she nodded, a hint of a grin on her lips. Was it bitter? Reminiscent? “It’s a lot harsher, a lot colder”, she said the word with something like distaste, “Than the typical white, American childhood.”

Chloe cocked her head as the woman paused.

“How so?”, her voice was soft.

She got a loop sided grin this time, laced with past trauma, “You must know, Chloe, my family never had money and my mother died early in my childhood. Cancer. Then it was only Papa and me. We were a good team – at first. But the loss of his wife, my Mama, it broke _something_ inside him. We never had much money, but then even less. Winters were unforgiving”, she shuddered as her eyes were fixed on the cool drink in her hands, “and only when it got really bad, Papa realized he had to do something. He got into shady deals, with shady people. But it payed for food and my education. Heating when we were lucky.”

“Is this why you came to America?”, her voice was softened by empathy.

“Mh, soon as I got out of college in St. Petersburg I moved here.”

“Rent must’ve been hard to pay. Or did your father help you with it during your college experience in Russia.”

Leia eyed her for a moment – suspicion and bold apprehension in them – as if she was scared to say anything that could get her father in trouble. She knew that look.

She smiled, softly. "I am not here as a cop, Leia. I am here as a woman who needs answers to make sure the people I love stay safe."   
  
She furrowed her brows as she scrutinized her, as if she was deciding whether to believe her, before she caved. The words were revealed slowly as if something was physically restraining her from doing so.  
  
"My papa, he tried helping with rent, but money was low. It always was. So when he found out someone could move in with me, paying more than 70% of the rent - he agreed."  
  
Chloe nodded in understanding. "Evja, was it?"  
  
"Yes. That was Evja."  
  
Chloe furrowed her brows. So far the story would make sense. The Russian opponent of Caelum had involved Leia's Father, paying his daughter's expenses if they would hide Eve in their midst. Chloe had felt a little guilty when she had had Maze look for Eve’s passport in order to find the identity she had taken on – she could hardly look up her old name and find something useful to it – but what had to be done, had to be done.  
  
She flipped through the pages, searching for Michael's picture between the printed overviews of flights he had booked to St. Petersburg.  
  
"Leia, this might come as a shock to you, but I believe that someone was stalking the two of you, observing Evja and you. This man", she flipped the photograph for Leia to look at it, "he has taken a residence in different flats in close vicinity to yours every six months in the past." She carefully observed the other woman's reaction, but there was no surprise or even agitation in them. Instead they lit up with recognition. Her nerves sung as she realized that there was something, something that they were missing.   
  
"Leia, do you know this man?"  
  
"Oh, yeah, sure! He was visiting Evja during that time. To check up on her or something."   
  
Chloe's heart stopped for a moment. She knew him. Eve knew Michael. They knew each other. Was Michael here to get Eve back to where she belonged? Did Eve escape and Michael was here to end what he had started?  
  
"And", she forced herself to ask, "how would you describe the relationship between them?"  
  
"At first, I think Evja wanted to bite his head off. But they warmed up to each other. Got a little closer. Don't get me started on this fella", she nodded towards the picture, which's gloss shone in the light of the day, "it took a little while, but he was smitten."

**\---**

Chloe’s gut was churning with nervousness as she paced up and down the living area, folded hands pressed to her lips. Her casefile seemed to follow her movements as if it was curious as to what the heck she was doing. How was she supposed to tell Lucifer? How was she supposed to tell him that his twin and his ex were on one side? How was she supposed to tell him she had been investigating in the first place? He needed to know. This had just proven how necessary her investigation had been. Even if she had done it behind his back, at least she _had_ his back.

Her hands had started to shake against her lips. She needed to get a grip on herself. She could do this. She needed to do this. And she needed to be calm. Lucifer would pick up on her agitation and it could backfire as soon as his overprotectiveness was triggered. She needed to do this as she would present the evidence to her superior, calm and objective. She nodded to herself, not managing to get any less frantic, but she shook her head. It would be fine. She sat down and flipped though the print outs of booked flights again, the verification for the reservation of hotel rooms and AirBnBs. The Visa forms that confirmed Eve living in Leia’s old apartment and the admission of Leia herself that Eve indeed lived with her.

_He was smitten._

Were they having an affair? What was Michael doing here? What were they planning? Did they want to get Lucifer back to the UK? To Caelum? How had Michael made sure Eve survived in the first place? Why were they here now? She shuddered and begged for the time to pass faster.

Minutes had dragged into hours for her when Lucifer eventually came home, humming a song underneath his breath. Her gut gnawed and knotted nervously, while she got up again, closing her folder.

“Detective, I am home!”

Her partner’s cheerful voice sounded through their home. He had switched the original “honey” to “detective” and it was becoming a thing lately.

“Hey, Satan!”, she called back, not quiet managing to meet her usual, light tone.

He came into view as he crossed the room to step in front of her, swiftly pressing a kiss to her lips, before his eyes fell onto the file still clutched in her hand. 

“Someday I will have to lock all your reports away when you come home”, he chuckled, “You need to take a break every now and again, love.”

“I know”, she hummed before she swallowed. He had to know. There was no excuse to not tell him. He needed to know. Her heart drummed heavily in her chest as if it knew this would change everything.

Lucifer rounded the counter to grab a glass as he continued humming. Her innards twisted and turned like maggots crawling through them.

“Lucifer”, she said and was proud that she managed to keep her voice from trembling, “I need to tell you something.”

He halted in his steps, eyes regarding her with surprised curiosity. He placed the glass on the counter and smiled.

“Oh, I see”, he purred, tone playful, “some dark little secret that you are hiding?”

Chloe flinched as if struck, a little huff of nervousness escaped her and she didn’t miss the way his brows furrowed in concern.

“Alright”, he said, stepping closer to her, his voice soft, “Out with it then, Detective.”

“I think you should sit”, she gestured towards the table.

“Very well”, he trailed off, slowly making his way over and letting himself plummet onto the chair, crossing his arms over his chest.

Breathing in once, twice she slipped into the role she took on every day.

“Okay, so”, she started, her voice suddenly sure and it had him lifting his eyebrow as if surprised even he really wasn’t, “I _know_ you told me not to investigate, but well, I did it anyway.”

He huffed, rolling his eyes as if to say that he had suspected it.

“And as sorry as I am for doing this behind you back, I am not sorry that I did it.”

He uncrossed his arms, “Chloe…”

She held up a hand, “I found something. I think you should know.”

She didn’t miss the way he sat a little straighter like a hound sensing his prey, eyes narrowing in curiosity.

“You wanna know?”

“Of course, I bloody do”, he snorted in amusement, “hit me.”

“I’d rather not.”

It was a weak attempt at banter, she knew, but the quirk of his lips appreciated it anyway.

“So”, she pulled open the file, sorting through the information she had collected, while Lucifer’s gaze stuck on her hands as if that could pry the clues from her fingers.

“I didn’t know where to begin, so I started at the one disturbance that I could hold onto. I know you won’t like it, but please wait until I have presented all the evidence.”

“Very well.”

He would have to suck it up and deal with it.

“I started with Eve. “

She could see him tense and his eyes narrow in suspicion, but she continued, “She mentioned St. Petersburg and someone called Leia. It turned out to be the suspect of the Eden-case, Leia Michaelnova, who told me back then in an interview she had a roommate called Evja. I went to check”, she pulled out the two filled out Visa forms – scanned and printed - that she had managed to get her hands on and put them in front of him. He leaned forward to follow her fingers that slipped down the paper finding the slot named home address. It matched.

“They lived together in St. Petersburg. So that was that. But now Michael is still missing in this picture. Call it intuition, call it a gut feeling, but I had Maria reach out to some friends at Interpol and they found a forged passport with Michael’s picture and details and they also found this.”

She pulled out the stack of passenger lists and booking confirmations, dates shining in bright neon strips of yellow that her highlighter had left and slid it towards him.

“Michael travelled to St. Petersburg in a half a year period over the last five years. The places he has been staying in are the last sheet after the flight information. They are always in walking distance to Leia and Eve’s apartment.”

She paused, seeing his body grow rigid in mere fractions of a second, his eyes flitted across the paper, his fingers sorted through the sheets like a well working machine.

“I _am_ going to kill him.”

A shudder ran along her spine, heavy and alert and she widened her stance. He radiated anger and a power she’d seen him unfold only once.

“No, you’re not.”

His gaze met hers, furious and wild.

“Chloe, if this is –“

“You are going to let me finish”, she said, voice hard, “And then – with all the evidence presented – you are going to make a decision. But I will tell you this upfront. If you do kill him, Lucifer, you answer to the law.”

Her chest ached, but it was the truth. She didn’t know what Eve and Michael were planning, but neither Michael nor Eve had shown any aggression towards any of them since they had arrived in New York. There was still the possibility that it had been Michael, who had hid Eve. Yes, shit could still go sideways, especially if it was something sinister that the two of them were concocting, but right now all they had was speculation.

A deep laugh escaped him as his dark eyes gazed up to her, “Oh, Detective Decker I will always answer to you.”

She shook her head, the barest of smiles on her lips,” I mean it.”

“And so do I. If what you presented is true, I have all the more reason to tear him apart.”

“Lucifer.”

“Oh, come now, Detective. What are you going to do, hm? Lock me in a cell and leave me to rot?”

She stared at him without comprehending. Her voice was low as she planted her palms onto the table to lean onto them, “Why do you think you are above the law?”

He leaned forward, a smirk all teeth on his lips, “Because if my dearest brother gets to be above it, I will follow his lead if it means stopping him.”

“Just because that’s what you’ve done all your life doesn’t mean that it’s the right way!”

“I couldn’t care less about the right way.”

“Liar.”

He froze, his whole body flinching and subsequently tensing as he glared at her.

“I beg your bloody pardon?”

There was anger running like bushfires through his voice and her heart accelerated.

“You do care about the right and the wrong way. You care a lot about that actually. It was you who told me you wanted to get out of the whole Heaven-bullshit, if I remember correctly, so don’t give me the I-don’t-care-speech.”

His laugh was hollow, “What do you know about Caelum, about my family?”

He was just lashing out to protect himself and keep her out, she knew that. That’s how she knew she was right. It was fine, she could do that. She was Chloe Decker and she would not yield.

He continued, now up on his feet and pacing like a caged tiger, “If my family, if Michael thinks it’s alright to threaten my family, that it’s alright to take Eve away from me, then they will have to suffer the consequences.”

“Eve knows”, she finally blurted out, “Eve knows Michael.”

He stopped in his tracks, looking at her with angrily furrowed brows and confusion. “Yes, she does, I am aware…”

“No”, she shook her head, “look, I contacted Leia Michaelnova, because I thought Michael was stalking them, stalking Eve. But the truth is – and I will give you her exact words – _He was visiting Evja during that time. To check up on her or something. At first Evja wanted to bite his head off. But they warmed up to each other. Got a little closer. He was smitten._ Eve knows Michael.”

He had frozen on the spot, eyes so very far away that she was afraid she couldn’t reach him anymore.

“Lucifer?”, she asked, soft, tentative.

“No”, his voice cracked at its edges, was quiet, hoarse, “this cannot be true.”

Her heart contracted painfully in compassion. She knew what it felt like, getting betrayed by one’s partner. She made her way over to him, her palms up and open as she stepped closer to him. Her hand found his arm and she carefully stroked his skin. It was a T-shirt kind of day today apparently.

“I know this must be hard to accept and I was shocked too, I am sorry.”

His dark gaze found her.

“You couldn’t just leave it, right?”

“Sorry?”, his words had been so quiet, she had nearly missed them.

“I mean, I knew you were not overly fond of her, but this? Opening an investigation just to slander her? You just _needed_ to find something on her, something that could give you confirmation enough to dislike her.”

She choked on her breath, “This is _not_ what I did this for.”

He snorted, shook off her hand and she would deny how much it _hurt_.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you for the jealous type, Detective Decker. But then again, you always surprise me.”

“I didn’t do this because I am _jealous_ ”, she snapped, arms coming up to cross over her chest as if to protect herself, “I did this because you deserve the truth.”

“Mh, no sure. The truth”, he laughed, winked at her and it was so fucking condescending, she could have screamed in anger.

“You wouldn’t even care if I just presented you rock solid evidence that she killed someone if I showed it to you”, she spit out, “you are so _blinded_ by your feelings for her that…that”, she gestured, trying to find the words for what she was trying to say.

“ _I_ am the one who is blinded by feelings?”, he raised his brows at her, “ _me?”_

Chloe swallowed and blinked as her sight was beginning to blur. This felt just like it had before. _Chlo, you’re seeing things that don’t exist. Chlo, you’re taking this too far, just drop the case._

“You know what?”, she hated the way her voice pitched and grew wet as she desperately tried to blink her tears away, “why was I even bothering? Why am I even _trying_ to make you see reason on this? You know just go see your - your”, she gestured, “beloved Eve and ask her yourself.”

“Yes”, he nodded, “I really should do that.”

_Because why would I trust your word?_ , he didn’t add, but she felt it in every syllable and every fiber of her being. Her heart drew into itself, further and further and it hurt.

“Just, take this”, she strode over to the table, put all the evidence she had so tediously collected – for _nothing_ – and snapped it shut, just to smack it into his chest.

His hands came up to catch it, a faint look of surprise on his face.

“Just take this and get _out_!”

He paused, eyes roaming over her flushed face and glassy eyes.

“Chloe?”, his question was so soft, so tentative and caring and she really didn’t want to care anymore.

“Get out.”

She caught the first tear with the back of her hand as she wiped across her eyes. The openness in his features shuttered and he nodded curtly and turned around to stride towards the hallway with his long legs. She stood frozen, lids sliding shut.

Keys jingled and a hanger clanked and then the door was opened. She flinched as it slammed shut.

Her legs decided they didn’t want to carry her anymore as she staggered over to the couch, hands folded over her face as she sobbed and sank to the ground.


	15. St. Petersburg: 26th of November 2013:  The bad guy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But what was happening in Russia?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there peeps! ^^
> 
> we get another short breather - kinda - before everything comes crashing down. 
> 
> As I am as good as finished with the story (only a few short fillers missing!) I have decided to take away the "long wait" you guys have between the chapters and smash out a chapter a day - I only have another week before uni starts for real so I am stoked to finish this story. (at least for now^^)
> 
> Djermo is the transcript for the Russian word дерьмо meaning "shit". ^^

_ 26th of November 2013 _

_He had decided he hated Russian winters. It was bad enough that he froze off his arse back home in Wales, but this took it to the next level. He shuffled from one leg to the other as he glanced upwards to Eve’s apartment, the cold had him desperately moving as if it would bring him some relief. He felt like bloody Romeo. He rolled his eyes at that, hiding the tiny smile that crept onto his lips. He had missed her, even though he would never admit it. They had talked over the phone once over the past six months, him having curled his long legs underneath his body on his mattress, head resting against the wall in his bedroom as he listened to her laugh. His fingers had fiddled with a pen, the black item dancing between his scars, while his lips had spread into a happy grin, the corners of his eyes wrinkling in amusement._

_He knew it was late, again, but she did expect him, didn’t she?_

_“Mike!”_

_He turned as his name echoed through the night, the cold air letting her clear voice reach him. Huddled in a coat that swallowed her tiny figure, could’ve swallowed it twice, she hastened over to him. The dark curls that peeking out of her beanie melted into the shadows around her and she grinned. He slipped his hands out of his pockets as she flung herself into his arms and he laughed, surprised, a little taken aback._

_“Hi”, he said, slowly as he didn’t understand._

_“Hi”, she giggled, extracting herself quickly out of his grip and he let her go, even though his body protested quietly at the thought of it. Hastily she searched for the keys in her pockets, her hand disappearing to her elbow between the layers._

_“I am so sorry”, she told him with a smile, “We got held up after work. We did chat a little, had tea, you know how it is.”_

_Did he? His forehead creased in bewildered amusement._

_“It’s fine”, he said, biting his lip in vain as they quirked into a smile, “I take waiting outside anytime, if I get an enthusiastic welcome like this.”_

_She let out a little snort, before she opened the door._

_“In with us.”_

_He nodded, letting her shuffle past him as he held open the door. Her body brushed past his, thick layers over winter coats between them. Nevertheless, he sighed, lips still smiling glike a fool and they made their way up the stairs, only illuminated by the blue glare of Eve’s phone._

_“The light’s broken again”, she grumbled, “I need to tell Alexej he has to fix it.”_

_Their steps sounded heavy as he threw her a little glance, avoiding the frown that wanted to steal itself onto his forehead._

_“Alexej?”_

_“Leia’s boyfriend – well”, she shrugged, voice pitching a little, “if you could call him that.”_

_“Ah”, he made, shoving the spark of relief aside that welled up in him._

_Glad she hadn’t picked up on it, he halted, waiting for her to open the door to the apartment. His limbs hummed happily, a little excitement underneath the layer of bone deep tiredness. The door gave way for them to slide into the apartment together and she turned the lights on._

_  
“So”, Eve lifted her voice as she shook off her thick coat, revealing a heavy knit underneath it as she released a sigh, “Leia isn’t here, so – what do you wanna do? Besides catching up, I mean?”_

_His brain short cut as he looked up while he took off his shoes._

_“Uh”, he made, willing his mind away from less appropriate pass times. He swallowed as his eyes took in her small figure, roughly knowing the curves that the pullover hid. “What – what do you normally do? I haven’t…”, he shook his head, “I haven’t had much of a free time lately.”_

_His only hobby seemed to be burying himself in research, still desperately trying to find a trace of Sam, and catching up with the sleep he was missing._

_“We could watch a film if you want. With popcorn and all that”_

_“Mhm”, he made, nodding more to himself than anyone else, as his fingers paused shortly, before pulling off his gloves._

_“Any preferences?”, she called from further inside the room._

_“No”, he said as he followed her, socks sliding along the parquet._

_“Great”, she huffed a laugh, “that helps a lot, Michael.”_

_He snorted in amusement, as he came to a halt next to her, his upper arm brushing her shoulder as he hovered, unsure what to do with himself._

_“We should watch a Disney movie.” She nudged him with her whole body and he let himself be shoved._

_“Okay”, he said, lifting his shoulder in a shrug._

_She paused in her ministrations of pouring corn into a pan and turned to him with an incredulous laugh._

_“Really? No protests?”_

_He rolled his eyes, chuckling, “It’s been a while since I’ve seen any movie, so I won’t complain. But maybe not something too – well.”_

_“Disney princess like?”_

_“Yeah.”_

_She nodded, pondering, before her lips spread into a bright grin, “We can watch Wreck it Ralph.”_

_“Isn’t that the one tosser of this game in the arcades?”, he frowned._

_“It is”, she chuckled, carefully making sure the butter would meet its intended target, the pan, instead of the counter._

_“I see. But sure. We can do that.”_

_“Great. So then I’ll just make sure this”, she gestured at the pot as she turned on the stove, “doesn’t burn, but you can make yourself feel at home. Like”, she smiled a little woeful smile at his slightly confused expression, “You can turn on the TV, get blankets, that kind of thing.”_

_“Alright”, he said, “You’ll be okay, if I leave you with this?” He threw a suspicious look at the pot._

_“Pf_ _s_ _hh”, she made, waving with the lid in her hand, “I am a woman. The kitchen is my domain. I’ve got that.”_

_He snorted a laugh at that as he shook his head and shuffled, a little self-conscious towards the living room. Normally he would prance around which ever home he invited_ _himself_ _to_ _, e_ _xerting a confidence and power he only possessed when he wore his mask as the commander of Caelum, but this was different. This was a home he was welcome to and it was Eve’s home. A little smile played with his lips as he let out a relieved breath. Corn was popping loudly in the background and the smell of melted butter wafted through the apartment. Padding across the room he made sure to find enough blankets and covers_ _for them to_ _be warm. A shudder ran along his spine as bile rose in his throat at the thought of cold walls and him huddled in a corner, shivering and weak. Of course, Samael hadn’t cared. Why would he?_

_Michael shook his head and away the slight burning behind his eyes. Even if he put his energy into finding him, he couldn’t help the anger that still sat deep in his bones, even after all these years, even when he tried his hardest to forgive him. After all it had been the goal to break the other. Breathing in he pushed the memories aside and reminded himself where he was. He was at Eve’s place. He was fine._

_“Djerm_ _o_ _!”, a curse and a clatter had him flinching as his heart accelerated and had him hurrying towards the kitchen only to see Eve sucking her finger into her mouth, expression angrily scrunched at the pots lid. With quick eyes and body he moved towards the side._

_“Hold it underneath cold water”, he commanded softly as he nudged her body out of the way, reaching out to lift the pot off the stove._

_“It’s hot!”, Eve blurted, but he had already gripped the handles, lifting the rattling and plopping pot of the hotplate. The slight sting of the heated metal was nothing compared to the Recruitment._

_“It’s fine”, he smiled, nodding at the tap, “Come on, under water with it.”_

_Eve’s gaze alternated from the pot in his hands to the sink, finally moving and turning_ _the tap_ _on._

_“Doesn’t that hurt?”, she wanted to know as he took off the lid._

_He quirked his eyebrow, trying to deflect her interrogation with a chuckled, “What can I say_ _?_ _T_ _he kitchen is my domai_ _n._ _”_

_“Ahaha”, she made, while he tried to suppress his laugh._

_“You’re smiling”, he teased, gesturing at her face, “I can see it!”_

_Her lips curled into a smile as she shoved him, he let out a little snort as her small body did nothing to move him. Her smile was lovely and his heart soared in his chest as they made their way to the couch, popcorn filled into a bowl, accompanied by banter._

_Eve crawled along the floor, eyes squinting in concentration as she turned on the TV and searched for the remote._ _He played with the bowl in his hands, not sure of what to do with him._

_“Aha”, she made triumphantly, “Found it.”_

_She held up the remote and a DVD, that she quickly inserted into the player, before she took her seat next to him, feet curled underneath her body, while she pulled the blanket up to her waist. The Disney logo danced across the screen and he did his best to relax his limbs, that wanted to jump up and pace. Instead he used popcorn to distract his fingers, while Ralph and his stump were introduced._

_“You’re supposed to eat it, you know?”, Eve giggled, taking the bowl from him._

_“Yes, the thought occurred to me”, he deadpanned to hide his embarrassment. His father had always hated his fiddling._

_He followed the plot of the movie with slight interest, before squinting._

_“Wait. Is that a self-help group?”_

_“Yeah, for “bad” game characters.”_

_“Ah”, he made, tilting his head, “that’s the ghost from Pacman!”_

_She grinned at him and it was impossible not to reciprocate it. He leaned back into the cushions of the couch, relaxing slightly, listening once more._

_“_ I don’t wanna be the bad guy anymore _”, the character on the screen said and his body didn’t get the message of this being relaxing as it tensed._

_All his life he had been nothing else but the bad guy. He got it. He didn’t even want to be the good guy. He just wanted to be a guy, an ordinary bloke building a life. But well. That wouldn’t be in it for the first commander of Caelum. For an angel_ like God _._

_Eve’s hand on his forearms, drawing circles onto his arm tore him out of his thoughts. Her wide and soft eyes regarded him with tender concern._

_“Are you alright?”_

_He nodded quickly, unable to stop himself from leaning into her touch. She smiled at him, scooting a little closer and before he could utter a word she had draped the blanket over them and leaned into his side. He froze, while his eyes never left the screen. What on earth had gotten into her today? He released a slow breath as Eve huffed a laugh and put the bowl back into his lap. Despite the new situation he had to admit it felt nice. Warm. Safe. He willed his muscles to relax as he focused back on the screen. Warmth crept along his still freezing skin and he let out a soft sigh._

_The tosser was going to win a medal. Great. Minutes bled away, time became irrelevant in the dark and a sense of belonging filled him. He could feel the woman in his arms shake with giggles, while her eyes regarded the screen with wonder as sugar cane trees and jelly drops formed a kingdom, molded by the sugary coat that enveloped meadows and streets. In white and pastel it struck as if it was a personal paradise. The corners of his mouth twitched into a grimace as he thought of the drug, the promised paradise that would be anything but the Eden that people wished for – at least in the long run._

_He chuckled at the glitch’s antiques - as cheeky and passionate about driving as the woman in his arms was about literature. Funny moments came and went and he scoffed at the idiot of a king – Please. It was glaringly obvious the bugger was the villain of this story. Eve rolled her eyes, while she shushed him as he murmured his suspicion._

_“Don’t spoil everything”, she chuckled, lightly smacking his chest, only for her hand to rest where it had impacted. Her palm eased out of the fist she had formed and lay tenderly against his sternum. And for well- heaven’s sake – he was only a man. Closing his eyes he tried to will his arousal away, which turned out to be a rather difficult task with her warm body plastered to his side, but eventually he managed to calm his breathing. Tentatively he raised his own hand to cover hers, so warm and small beneath his scarred palm. A smile stretched his lips as he felt his heart beat leisurely underneath their joined hands._

_The glitch and the stink brain built a cart and practiced driving – and then the idiot let himself be manipulated._

_He heaved a sigh, brows furrowing in slight concern. He squeezed her hand gently at her whispered “No.” as the cart was smashed by heavy fists. Hick ups and wails and tears had his heart clenching with empathy._

_“_ You really are a bad guy” _, the child spit out and his pulse ceased to exist for a split second._

_“He was just trying to protect her”, it had slipped past his lips before he could stop it. He had just wanted to save her, to make sure she was alright._

_Eve lifted her head off his shoulder, while she peered up at him with sorrowful eyes, that he tried to avoid._

_“Mike”, she said quietly._

_He looked down, throat suddenly dry. He was just trying to protect him. She tilted her head with a woeful smile, her other hand coming up to his cheek as her body turned, tentative fingers brushing his beard._

_“I-“, he cleared his hoarse throat, “I just-“_

_“I know”, she said, “it’s okay. You are not – and I want you to listen closely to me – you are_ not _a bad guy.”_

_Did she? His mouth slowly gaped open in bafflement. She knew him, she knew his position in Caelum and she didn’t think that he was the bad guy? His heart stuttered in his chest as he searched her face for the truth, those wide, brown eyes that looked at him with something fond, something adoring and he could’ve kissed her. Instead he held her hand on his chest a little tighter._

_“Okay?”_

_“Okay”, he agreed, managing to keep his voice from shaking. The smile that spread on her lips was a beautiful one that filled his insides with warmth as she gave his cheek a last tender brush before her hand left his skin bereft of her touch and she flopped back into his side._

_Safe to say they beat the evil king and well – the whole other disgusting rubbish in that film._

_He tried to keep his lips from twitching upwards, but it was rather hard as Eve cooed in happiness._

_“See?”, she grinned up at him, “He wasn’t a bad guy after all.”_

_He wanted to say something, anything, but his lips just hung lightly agape, corners of his mouth just curled so, as he looked down at her, her hand nestled into his, her warm body against his and he didn’t know why, but with a stuttering breath he leaned down as she surged up and his lips captured hers. For a moment time seemed to freeze around him in shock, his heart stopped beating in bafflement, before he let out a long sigh against her lips and melted into her embrace. Her mouth was warm and somehow familiar and he felt lightheaded as she kissed him so tenderly and gently and yet full of passion. His hand played with hers, turning her hand just so it would tangle their fingers together. His scarred and ugly ones with her perfect and small ones. He left out a sound from the back of his throat and it slipped past his lips and she reciprocated it quietly. His other hand found itself tangled in her dark tresses, hair so silky and soft he could have spent days threading his fingers through her waves. Eve’s pressed herself flush against him and it set his body aflame._

_Sucking in air through his nose he pulled away from her mouth – they were addicting, like his personal helping of Eden – and he bumped his forehead against hers, before he opened his eyes to gaze into hers. They were wide and dark with fondness, with lust._

_“Eve”, he murmured._

_“Michael”, her whisper was teasing, her lips tantalizingly plush in front of his and with a rush of a breath he sealed them with his._

_What had carried tentativeness before had dissolved into nothingness as heat rose in waves in him and he pulled her closer to him. Her curves pressed into him, her breasts hidden under soft knit against his chest, her thighs against his. His hand let hers go, only for her hands to cross behind his neck as her tongue plead for entrance. With his heart thundering in his chest he groaned, welcoming her in only to melt into shivers as she entered, her tongue stroking his, circling his – God, she was good at this. His hand slid down her waist, she was so small compared to him. She was soft and the noises she made drove him insane as arousal gathered in his abdomen, his trousers were terribly tight._

_Never breaking their kiss – he would absolutely not let her get away, not when she felt like this, kissed him like this – he shifted on the couch, turning them and let himself sink on his back, pulling her with him. She went without complaint as she spread her legs and adjusted herself to sink down with him, her core – hidden by the thick fabric of her jeans, which she looked so damned good in – hovered above his erection and a sigh escaped him as she separated her lips from his._

_“Nuhu”, he made, following her as she pulled away, cupping her cheek to pull her back to him and she chuckled, while her hands adjusted themselves underneath her body to hold herself up on his chest. He let out a groan against her lips, wishing she would get rid of the fabric between them. The feeling of her palms against his muscles had already been intoxicating with something between his skin and hers and he wanted to get drunk on her touch. It had been so damn long since he had been touched by a woman, since he had been kissed like that and he would be lying if he didn’t imagine_ this _with Eve at some point, alone in his bed at night._

_His hand slid underneath her pullover and he could’ve sighed in relief as his palm slid over skin, over her slim waist, small and delicate underneath his touch. It felt like coming home. She let out a breathy moan as she sank down on his hips and he hissed, unable to stop them from jerking upwards. She let out a mixture between a laugh and a hitched moan as one of his fingers slid underneath the wire of her bra._

_“Mike”, she said, voice hoarse and low and god, he wanted her, he did. He closed his eyes, seeking her lips once more, taking the momentum they had gathered and slowed it, before he let her lift her mouth of his to look at her. She was stunning, with her dark curls framing her face, her cheeks flushed and eyes blown in lust._

_“Eve, are you-“_

_“Yes. Yes,_ please _.”_

_***_

_And who would he be to refuse her? They got rid of each other’s clothes, layer by layer they peeled each other free. She really was Eve, a temptation like no other, only clad in a black bra - lace mingling with cotton - and her panties. His throat grew tight at the walling hair that spilled along her figure, dark and lush like a night sky, doe eyes that regarded him hungrily. Small hands had slipped underneath his shirt that was now sprawled on the floor, had pulled his belt out of its loops for his trousers to fall to the ground._

_“You are beautiful”, he managed to breathe, before hissing as her fingers danced along the seam of his boxers._

_She smiled at that and he could have sworn it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, her lips pressed a peck to his, before lifting his scarred hands to her face, softly caressing them, kissing them._

_“So are you.”_

_His eyes grew wide, while his chest expanded beyond what his ribcage could allow. He cupped her face, pulling her towards him, his mouth silently uttering the words he was too scared to voice yet. She melted against him, was flush against his body, while her hands had left his and roamed along his skin, leaving traces of lust, of heat, of delight all over his limbs. He pulled her back onto the couch with him, sinking down with her, her core grinding against his cock. His lips wandered along her neck, his hands baring her skin to him and the noises she made went right to his member._

_“Eve”, his voice was hoarse, breath, while her hands held onto his shoulders, pushing herself up._

_“Yes?”_

_He didn’t get to say much, when she grinned, one of her hands sneaking along his torso, along his abs only to grip his cock through the fabric of his boxers._

_“Off”, he growled, unable to hold himself back any longer and the smirk that danced with Eve’s lips was intoxicating._

_“Ay, commander”, she whispered and he barked a laugh, shaking his head, before his fingers found her breasts and kneaded them to draw another moan out of her mouth._

_“Off”, she agreed with a gasp as her smile dripped into an expression hazy from lust. He nodded, his hands making quick work of her undergarments, while she tugged his boxers off, their limbs tangling into each other, before Eve hopped off of him. It gave him a moment to breathe, a moment to wonder what the hell was happening, but his thoughts were wiped blank as Eve reappeared in his sight. She was a vision, she truly was. Her breasts bounced with her step, her hips wide and perfect for him to grip, her skin so soft, her lips plump. He couldn’t wait to be buried inside her. She smiled at him, a little seductive quirk of her lips as she threw the glistening packet of the condom towards him, that he easily caught, tore open and hurried to roll it over his member. He couldn’t help but groan slightly as his hand closed around himself, squeezing. His eyes fluttered close._

_Small hands batted his away to replace his own and he blinked fondly at her. Even though she was smiling, he could see her shiver._

_“Come here”, he murmured, spreading his arms for her to climb onto his form, her thighs encasing his hips and he pulled her down towards him, towards his warmth and wrapped the blanket they had been using around their bodies. Her body was so small and soft and he let out a moan as her lips nipped at his skin, kissing their way up his neck, towards his earlobe. His grip tightened around her as he shallowly thrust up towards her heat. He wanted, oh, how he wanted._

_“Eve”, he whispered, yearning and she smiled, oh how he loved that smile, as she grinded down on him._

_His grip around her tightened and she bit her lip and let out a sound of so much wanton that it nearly undid him then and there. Done with waiting he snuck a hand between them, down to where they were joined, carefully aligning them._

_“Okay?”, he asked her – he would stop if it wasn’t, but god, he wanted this to happen._

_But she nodded and with that he slowly pushed upwards, carefully slid into_ _her – his eyes closing for a second. It had been way too long for him. Eve made a sound, chocked off and raw and his eyes snapped open, regarding her, pleased when he found nothing but want on her features. Her hips moved desperately, tried to take him in further and he obliged. Her warmth encased him bit by bit until he was fully sheathed in her, her pelvis grinding against his. He froze for a moment, relishing in feeling her, warm and tight and wonderful around him, her body warm and solid in his arms, before he thrusted into her. The little sounds she made were divine, they spilled over her lips each time he bottomed out in her, sped up as his movements did. His eyes took in her rupture, broad hands guiding her hips firmly, while her curls bounced in accord with her breasts. Pleasure chased along his skin, his blood, fired up his neurons and all he could think was_ finally _. He was finally loved._

_Eve’s hands found their way to his chest, leaning on to them, but it wouldn’t do. She was still too far away. He followed her body as he sat up, his arms encircling her as she shuddered around him._

_“That’s it”, he murmured, no, more gasped into her ear._

_Her moans broke like waves at the shore did and his blood froze as she whimpered._

_“Sam.”_

_His heart thundered and thundered so loud it drowned out everything else while his gut turned. Fuck. Why would she say – who was he kidding? He knew why, knew why it was so easy to trust him like this, but it hurt nevertheless. His next breath was shaky as he didn’t stop his movements. She had been so strong already, had fought so hard already to get back to him, was so desperate to find him after they had been forced apart so violently. She had been so strong for so long. If he could give her this, why wouldn’t he?_

_He squeezed her a little tighter, lips finding her neck as he sucked bruises to it, her sounds of extasy growing steadily._

_“Eve,_ darling”, _the word tasted like poison on his tongue as he uttered it, but she let out a moan that made it all worth it, “I want you to come for me.”_

_“I-“, she gasped, “yes, please. Please.”_

_Her begging still did things to him, that made his mind swirl and his thoughts hazy. She was warm and tight and he didn’t care that it wasn’t his name that fell from her lips as she fluttered and pulsed around him, not when his own climax lured the words that had rested on the tip of his tongue for a while from his lips to nestle in the crook of her neck._

_***_

_For a moment he let himself get submerged in the waves of pleasure and love, ignoring the impossibility of it all. It was Eve’s sob that tore him back to the world._

_“I’m sorry”, her eyes swam with tears and horror as she looked at him, “I am sorry, Michael, I am so, so sorry. I’m sorry.”_

_The words fell from her lips in rapid succession, hysteria rising in her body. His hand found her cheek, cupped it tenderly for her to look at him._

_“It’s okay”, he whispered insistently, even though it hurt. It hurt so very much, “it’s okay, I understand.”_

_“I’m sorry”, another sob had his chest constricting as he pulled her towards his warmth, turning them as he eased out of her._

_“It’s okay”, he murmured, drawing soothing circles along her skin, peppering soft kissed to her temple, while her tears and snot wetted his skin, “it’s okay, Eve.”_ I love you _. “It’s okay.”_

_They lay like this for a while until he feared they would make a mess on the couch as he softened and cleaned up with quick movements only to gather the woman back into his arms. She fell asleep with an apology on her lips and he could do nothing more than to hold her close and pretend that for once it had been him, who found love. Denial was a wonderful coping mechanism._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut Summary: Eve kisses Michael's scarred hands, Michael tells her he loves her in the throes of passion, while she comes with Lucifer's (Sam's) name on her lips. Michael plays along for a moment, (calling her Darling etc)


	16. Eve's lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer goes and confronts Eve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right peeps so,
> 
> The next few chapters are emotionally challenging - or at least they were emotionally challenging for me to write. 
> 
> There is only one thing that I want you to keep in mind and that is that people are just that - people. human. throughout our lives we make mistakes, some are worse than others, but they are all what eventually makes us human (and I am not talking about "we all have flaws"-Pete mistakes XD)
> 
> Anyhow, that being said - here you go guys. your daily helping of angst.

His veins were trembling in anger and anxiety as his fingers drummed against the folder and his heart in his chest as he made his way along the street. His muscles felt too tight and too hot and he was fuming. He had thought better of her, had thought that if anyone could understand it would be Chloe. That she could understand how hard he was trying to make sure neither of them felt neglected, to make sure to reassure the both of them. He had thought it would be enough. That for once it would be enough, but shocker. It was never good enough, would never be good enough.

A hint of guilt peeked out of the vail of fury as he thought of her cracking voice as she told him to leave, but it was soon swallowed by another towering wave of hurt. He flexed his fingers. Why couldn’t she just have left it be? Why couldn’t she just be happy for him?

_Eve knows Michael._

_He was visiting Evja during that time._

_He was smitten._

It couldn’t be true. It was Eve they were talking about. The person that had always had his back and supported him even if he fucked up. The person who would wait for him at home, help him wash the blood of his knuckles after a particularly trying day and told him he was not a monster for complying. The person who would look at him with such passion in her eyes and told him she believed in him. She wouldn’t lie to him. She would never lie to him. How could Chloe even insinuate such a thing?

He swallowed the thick knot in his throat and felt his fingers toy with his ring. He had never thought she would try something like this. If she had a problem with Eve being here, why didn’t she just tell him? They could’ve worked _something_ out. Instead she just did what – try to push him away through a lie? Make him believe Eve was going behind his back?

_You are so_ blinded _by your feelings for her that…_

Was he really? Blinded by feelings? He scoffed as he shook his head. He wasn’t one to easily or readily trust somebody, the past had taught him well, but maybe not well enough. It had just been so easy with Chloe, so easy to trust her and she had been so supportive, so accepting. Maybe he was blinded by his feelings. He blinked rapidly to fight the burning sensation in his eyes as he fiddled for his keys for the entrance at the back of the bar.

Something foul swelled in his chest like a corpse left out to rot. But what if Chloe was right? Hypothetically. What if Eve did – no. She just wouldn’t. If there was one thing he could count on it was the fact that he could count on Eve. Always. The trembling doubt that nestled against his stomach had him swallowing down the bile that threatened to escape his esophagus. He pushed open the door and made his way up the staircase, feet eating two steps at once.

He halted abruptly in front of his door as if time had frozen, but instead it had been his blood that turned to ice. Doubt and anger and fear wrestled inside his anxious limbs. His lungs desperately tried to suck in air, but his throat didn’t seem to work properly. Fuck this. Fuck anxiety. He shook his head with a low growl, annoyed at himself as he inhaled deeply through his nose and let his breath out through his mouth. There was nothing his brain needed to worry about.

“Denial is a wonderful coping mechanism”, he murmured as he felt his heart slow down a little before he took a step forward and knocked at the door to his apartment. His forehead bumped against the door frame as he listened. The thick paper of the file was softened by the sweat of his fingers.

“ _One second_!”, a soft voice called and despite himself his lips lifted into a little smile. Steps neared the door and a door chain clinked, before it slid open to reveal Eve’s open smile.

“Hey”, brown eyes widened happily, “What are you doing here? I thought you were with Chloe this evening?”

He huffed a breath, hurt constricting his chest again.

_Get out._

“Well, something came up.”

She cocked her head, dark curls spilling over her shoulders and he had never felt so torn before.

“Come in”, she nodded her head as her brows furrowed in concern, “I mean it’s your apartment and all, so in with you.”

He managed half a weak smirk before he slipped past her, the manila folder in his hand protested quietly as he tightened his grip. He kicked off his shoes and shrugged out of his leather jacket feeling weirdly exposed around the person that once been his partner. Why did he?

The door closed behind them and they moved into the living room.

“Do you wanna drink something?”

He shook his head and leaned against the counter, eyes weary as he regarded her small figure and soft features, the gentle curve of her lips. She had been home once and it had been her lips that had kissed him so very tenderly.

She heaved a sigh.

“Out with it, Luce – Sam”, she decided as he didn’t react, “Sam, what’s wrong?”

He swallowed down the bitterness that kissed his tongue as he pulled out the file and tossed it onto the counter. Furrowing her brows she flipped it open, gaze alternating between him and the documents taunting him, _them_ , as she waited for an explanation. He didn’t have it in him to get all the swirling thoughts out in the open. She continued going through the pages. She halted at the handwritten one he was sure was Leia’s witness statement. Only now he trusted his voice enough to talk.

“This is what Chl”, her name hurt, “ – the Detective has collected about you. And this”, he pointed at the piece of paper in her hands, “is either her attempt at making me doubt you and push us apart or”, he laughed, maybe a little crazy, “or it is – as impossible as that sounds - the truth. But it can’t be, can it?”

He had resumed pacing, his muscles trembled like they were about to give out. What was he? A schoolboy that had to report a grade below a B to his father? Hardly.

She would agree with him, he was sure of it, would jump to her defense and reassure him. He wasn’t sure whether that was better, showing him only how insecure Chloe really was, how much she doubted him. He turned, hands raking his hair. Eve would agree, he was sure – why wasn’t she saying anything?

His gaze found her figure leaning over the file, lip worried between her teeth, while she stared into nothing. Her eyes flickered up to meet his – guilt in them.

“Eve?”

Never had his voice sounded that pathetic in his ears as he felt as if he stood at the edge of a cliff, at the take off and didn’t know how deep the water was – if there was any water below it.

She closed her eyes, a tear slipping down her cheek.

“I am sorry.”

The floor underneath his feet fell away as he was pushed off the cliff and he was falling. There was no water, there was no ground. There was only falling.

He stared, lungs screaming for air, but he couldn’t hear it. His ears were filled to the brim with white noise, muted everything around him.

“What?”

His legs gave out as he sagged down onto his couch. Why was she apologizing?

She looked at him, eyes glassy and tears trailing down her cheeks and a part of him yearned to wipe them away, take away whatever was hurting her. But why was he hurting?

She gestured at the file.

“It’s true. I … I was in contact with Michael in St. Petersburg. He hid me there.”

The words hit him like a mean right hook would, with a hint of awareness beforehand and stars dancing across his vision afterwards.

“You-“, his mouth opened and closed as his features went slack, “you lied to me?”

No. This couldn’t be happening. This just couldn’t be happening.

She sniffed, wiping her eyes with the pad of her palm.

“I did. And I am sorry Sam, you don’t believe how sorry I am.”

He felt his eyes sting, because what did he do with a “sorry”? He blinked, chest whimpering in agony as he tried to capture the rushing thoughts.

“Why?”, it was all he could muster as he stared at her. It was like seeing her for the first time all harsh edges and shards, “Why would you do that to me? To _me_?”

She let out a harsh sound, a caricature of a laugh.

“Because if I would’ve mentioned Michael? You would’ve overreacted the second you found out!”

“And nearly blowing his brains out because he showed up and I didn’t know why was better?”, suddenly he was up on his feet, anger fueling him again, “Sleeping with my gun next to my head because I was _terrified_ he would hurt someone I love was _better_?”

“I didn’t think you would react like that!”, she raised her wavering voice.

“I’ve just hated that bastard for the last twenty years so, yeah – right. I would just welcome him with open arms and a pat on the back saying “Oh, brother good you’re here! Have a biscuit!””

“Maybe you should have!”, she bit out, “He’s the reason I’m even alive!”

“But I didn’t bloody _know that, did I_?”, his voice boomed through the small apartment as his chest heaved with painful breaths, “because _someone_ bloody lied to me!”

“I am sorry”, she croaked and it pierced his very being.

He willed himself to calm, to tame the anger. He swallowed down the knot in his throat, blinked away the moisture in his eyes.

His words were low and harsh. “I want you to tell me what has been going on. And I want you to tell me all of it. The whole, bloody truth.”

“Okay”, she whispered as she slowly made her way towards him. His eyes followed her as she let herself fall into one of the leather chairs next to the couch. “Okay.”

He stood, waiting as his limbs rushed with anxious energy. His arms came up to cross in front of his chest, feeling too exposed, too raw. He wished Chloe was here. He willed away the tears that were welling up in his eyes.

“Okay”, Eve’s voice directed his attention back to her, “So, it was true, a burner phone showed up at my desk at work, but it was Michael who was calling me. I – he told me about Uriel’s cohort wanting me dead and that I would need to hide. That I didn’t need to worry, because everything was set up already. I wanted to tell you, I did, but I couldn’t. One of his most trusted drivers waited for me – Carl was his name – and brought me to the airport. I… I think he killed him afterwards. So they wouldn’t find a trace of me.”

Lucifer felt sick as blood drained from his face. No… not Carl. Not the man who had smuggled them sweets as children when their parents weren’t looking. How could he just…?

“I was picked up by Leia Michaelnova and her father Misha. They were quite lovely and I was to live with her. So I did. I adjusted, learned Russian. Michael came to visit in November, half a year after I was “killed”. He said he wanted to check up on me. Whether I was alright. I told him I wanted to go back, to tell you I’m okay.” She sniffled.

“He told me you were gone. That you just disappeared and I got so scared, Sam. I was so, so scared that you did something to yourself.”

He scoffed, shaking his head.

“But he told me he would keep looking for you. But that it wasn’t safe to contact you yet. Even if he knew where you were. And then another half a year passed and he would check on me. And another. And somehow it didn’t feel like I was alone in this.”

_He was smitten._

“We were at home once, watching a film together, cuddling and… and he was so much like you, Sam and I know it was stupid, but…”

He was shaking his head, silently begging for her not to say it as the first tear slipped down his cheek.

“I slept with him”, her voice ended in a low sob as she wiped her eyes and the floor beneath him seemed to disappear a second time, “ and I just – I never wanted that to happen and I – God – I feel so _stupid_ for giving in.”

“How could you-“

She snapped at him, “You have to talk! I think it’s you who is having a new girlfriend and being all lovey, dovey in front of me.”

Something primal reared its head inside him and he sent her a blazing glare.

“I thought you were bloody dead, Eve!”, he growled, “I did already grieve for you for years and for the first time I believed I could be happy after you, so don’t you _dare_ bring her into this. Don’t you dare compare our situations. _”_

They stared at each other, eyes brimming and overflowing with tears and what they had lost as they lost all their momentum in a rush. They just stood – or in her case sat and stared at each other.

“Eve”, he said unable to keep his voice from breaking, “What – what else did you lie about?”

_Sam, it’s okay. I know this was hard for you,_ _but you are not a monster._

_-He was_ seventeen _! And I just… I beat him half to pulp!_

_I know, babe. I know. But it was better than the alternative._

_-Was it really? Or was I just too weak – too…_

_I get that it is hard to believe, but wanting to survive, not wanting to be tortured? That’s not weak, Sam. That’s self-preservation._

“What do you mean?”, she was sniffing, wiping her eyes as another small sob escaped her.

_I think you can do it. That someday you’ll get out and then we can leave this all behind. I believe in you._

“What else did you lie to me about? Was”, he stifled the low keen that fought its way up his throat, “was _anything_ real?”

Please tell me it was real.

_Hey, it’s okay, babe. It’s okay, you don’t need those_. _Remember?_

_-I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I … I just want it to stop. I just want it to stop for a bloody, goddamned second!_

_I know, but this? Relapsing? It is not the answer, Sam. You can do this. I know that. You are strong enough, I know that._

“Yes! Of course, it was real!”, it had her glaring up him with wide brown and teary eyes, “How can you even ask that? I loved you – no, I still love you, Samael! So much I think my heart might just burst, because it’s been five, fucking years and I was losing my mind over there. I just wanted to see you, be with you.”

He barked a cynic laugh that was more of a sob than anything. “You slept with my fucking twin!”

“And I always wished it was you.”

Silence hit them as time seemed to slow to a crawl as it stumbled before it could accelerate again.

“That doesn’t make it right”, the words were so hoarse, so weak that he would’ve nearly missed them himself, even if they came right out of his mouth. 

She nodded, crossing her arms below her chest, but not before wiping a tear away. Leaning with her back against the counter she bit her lips.

“What else did I lie to you about?”

He closed his eyes. He hated the fact that she didn’t even deny it.

“I…”, her eyes found his, regretting, “I didn’t call your Mum back then. After rehab.”

He clenched his fingers, unable to control the restless apprehension that cursed through his veins.

“Who did?”

Another tear spilled across her cheek.

“Michael did.”

He froze before anger overwhelmed the hurt.

“He _knew?_ _He knew?!_ I thought you had my back on this! I thought you -”, he was shouting now, sight blurring so hard he couldn’t see, “Did you tell him, hm? Did you tell the bloody bastard I overdosed? So, he could come and look at the fuck up of his brother and have a right good laugh?!”

“That’s not why I did it!”

_This is not what I did this for._

It was confirmation enough.

“Give me your phone.”

“What?”

“Give me your phone, I need to talk to Michael.”

“Sam.”

“That is _not_ who I am!”, he finally bit out, “Give me your phone! I am sure you have his number somewhere in there.”

She lifted her hands placatingly, before she made her way to the couch where her cardigan laid and pulled out her cell to unlock it. She put it into his trembling and outstretched hand. With unsteady fingers he searched for his brother’s name. _Mike._ His eyes lifted from the screen with disdain as he regarded her for a split second, before he lifted the phone up to his ear.

It rang and rang and finally someone picked up.

“ _Eve? Is everything alright? Are you okay_?”

“Eve is just peachy”, Lucifer couldn’t help himself, “Where are you? You and I need to have a chat, _Mike_.”


	17. Michael's truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two twins finally say what they need to

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning peeps!
> 
> Just a quick thing before we start - I know "Ok boomer" and "Karen" are not very 2016 and does it serve a purpose other than giving me and you guys a little break from angst? No, absolutely not^^
> 
> (Should anyone named Karen or a member of the boomer generation read this - this is no personal attack, just a cracky scene born from meme culture and gen z humor^^) 
> 
> Lots of love you peeps!

He had managed to wipe his eyes and compose himself enough to trust himself not to break into tears or untamed rage next to the woman, blonde hair in a shoulder-length cut that did nothing for her round face reading some novel and the huffing and puffing man on his other side. His hands were clenching around each other as he rested his elbows on his knees. The handbag of a young woman, all grunge and edgy – really, couldn’t they wear something with less holes in it? – dangled dangerously in front of his face. He doubted he would even feel it as numb as he felt should hit him.

“Sorry”, someone, grunge girl, murmured as she adjusted her bag to rest on her other shoulder, before her eyeliner rimmed eyes narrowed, “Are you okay, buddy?”

“Fine”, he said curtly.

She regarded him with pity – he hated it – and a grimace that should’ve been a kind smile.

“I hope it gets better soon.”

His eyes snapped up to meet hers, strikingly blue and the same emotion in them that he had carried in his chest for decades. There was a litany of leather bracelets and bands from festivals around her wrist, healing scars peeking out of the protective layer, pink and white stripes against her pale skin.

He wetted his lips, “I can say the same for you.”

She swallowed, “I’ll be fine.”

He regarded her for a long moment, not feeling like a heart to heart at all, but he _knew_ what it was like. Not thinking there was a way out.

“I can assure you”, he raised his voice again, gentle, but loud enough for her to hear, “it does get better.”

Her gaze welled up with tears as she nodded and he searched his pockets, pulling out the Doctor’s card, before he shoved it into her bag. The woman next to him glanced up from her book.

“She’s truly good at what she does. Tell her a Lucifer Morningstar sent you.”

Her lips lifted up into a sincere smile this time.

“Thank you.”

An annoyed sigh had him snapping his head around.

“Can you do this somewhere else? _Some_ people want to read in peace and not see some”, the woman gestured erratically, “some psycho bullshit going on.”

Lucifer groaned, because bloody hell, why on earth –

“Ok, boomer”, the girl in front of him agreed easily, her lips pressed tightly together as the corners of her mouth twitched. Despite himself a grin danced across his mouth.

“Excuse me? Young lady, this is _beyond_ disrespectful! But what else can be expected from –“

“Oh, for fuck’s sake”, he bit out with a grimace as the woman screeched into his ear, “Will you shut it, Karen?”

The woman gaped unintelligently, before shoving her book into her bag, making a show out of huffing in affront, before she hissed, “This will come back to you!” and shoved her way through the underground.

Grunge girl let out a snort as mirth stole its way into her desperate eyes.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome”, he sighed, a hint of amusement in it.

“Well”, she said, adjusting her bag, “I need to get off at this one. Stay safe. “

He lifted the corner of his mouth into something that should be reassuring as he swallowed.

“You too.”

And with that she disappeared between the masses occupying the underground. And with her any calmness that he might have felt.

He knew. Michael knew about his overdose. He knew about his rehab. Fuck.

Eve lied to him. Chloe didn’t. Eve _slept_ with Michael. She fucked his twin.

Just the thought of it made him want to vomit as his stomach lurched.

**_Breathe. Push everything else aside. Just focus on what is in front of you._ **

_Knuckles bursting against his mirror image’s jaw as his fist impacted._

**_Breathe. Push everything else aside. Just focus on what is in front of you._ **

_A needle under his skin, a piston pushing down as he tried to forget his father’s hands around his throat._

**_Breathe. Push everything else aside. Just focus on what is in front of you._ **

****

_Cleaning blood of his knife, a last cold glance and a spoken warning._

**_Breathe._ **

****

_Michael screaming and raging on the other side of glass as pain seared through his own being, he couldn’t even move anymore._

**_Push everything else aside._ **

****

This was about answers. About knowing the truth. Eve was inconsequential. Right now, it didn’t matter. Very little did.

**_Just focus on what is in front of you._ **

Lucifer got up, metal and plastic seats and people around him before the underground came to a halt that made the man next to him stumble and the doors slid open to let him out, let him glide through the doors and he could have laughed bitterly at how easy it had been to become Samael again.

His steps had been measured as he made his way to the rented flat. As shabby and run down as expected. Michael couldn’t attract attention, now could he? His legs had carried him up the narrow staircase with ease. Rage ran along his veins again, but he knew better than to let it out. The familiar crawling danced up his neck, but he breathed it away. Just the way she had taught him to.

_Dock. Dockdockdock - Dock. Dock._

****

He felt the steps more than he heard them, vibrating under the soles of his shoes and he rolled his weight onto the balls of his feet.

A door chain. A slit. And then his twin’s face regarded him for a second, before he stepped aside and let him in.

He slid into the room, small, enclosed, but the lingering moldy smell was chased by scandal wood scented incense sticks. He left his leather jacket on, left his shoes on as he strode further into the inside of the place his brother had taken residence in. The latter had followed him and regarded him silently, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“What is it, Sam?”

He snorted. “Don’t play coy with me, brother dearest.” His voice dripped like poison, like the venom he was.

“Mhm”, Michael made, leaning against the doorway, “you know.”

“I do.” Lucifer regarded the dried out flowers on the cabinet with disdain, “Funny, isn’t it?”

“What is?”

“That in all those years…that I have grieved for her and missed her”, he shook his head, “she had a very accurate replacement, didn’t she?”

His brother let out a bitter huff of amusement, “Yeah, sure Sammy. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

It did nothing to remain in control, to calm his anger that cursed through his veins. His fist tightened, his fingernails cutting crescents into his palm. Michael had always had his way of getting underneath his skin.

“Cut the bullshit, Michael”, he ground out, turning to meet his twin’s gaze, “Firstly, so _good_ of you two to tell me it was you who hid her, thank you for the heads up and secondly, what the _actual bloody fuck_?”

Michael regarded him for a moment, his mouth a tight line, “I wanted to tell you, Sam. I did, but Eve…”

“Oh?”, he made, nearly mockingly so as he raised his brows, “wrapped around her little finger, are we?”

His brother pushed away from the door frame, features set in cold stone, “I know what you are playing at, but cut the crap, brother. Don’t you dare pretend that-“

“That what?”, he spat, “That I was over here, drinking myself into oblivion and tried to deal with the death of my girlfriend, while you two were happily canoodeling on the other side of the ocean?”

Michael made a harsh sound, nearly a choked off laughter, “Yeah? _Happily_? You always got what you wanted, Sammy! Ever thought about that? So yeah, I fell for her, stupid as it is. But do you have _any_ idea –“, he broke off, anger and something broken in his eyes as he paced, “It’s always a pleasure when the woman you love moans your brother’s name while you’re inside her.”

_And I always wished it was you._

The thought alone made him feel sick and had rage rushing through his limbs, chasing after the hurt to swallow it whole. It overtook the more painful sensations and ate them up.

“Oh, my heart bleeds for you, brother.”

“What else was I supposed to do?”, it was Michael who raised his voice.

“Maybe not _fuck_ her, you sodding bastard! That was”, he bellowed as hurt pierced and prodded underneath his sternum, “She was the love of my life! And you just –“

Michael regarded him, eyes dark and hurting as he stopped walking.

“You took her away from me”, he resumed, not as ferocious now, the little edge of pain more pronounced, “She was gone and – and you don’t have _any_ idea what it’s like.”

His twin threw his arms up in the air, “I tried to protect you from that!”

He choked on his breath as he grimaced, trying to forget and push back all the memories, the fragments of pain and loss and _missing_ her, wishing it was him instead who got killed.

“You don’t get it, Michael, do you? You didn’t protect me from that. I wasn’t protected from losing her. I still believed that she was _gone_. And now?”, he hated the desperation and slightest hint of hysteria in his voice, “now she’s lying to me and – “, he turned to his brother, rage over powering the rest of his feelings once more, “It all wouldn’t have happened if you had just stuck your sodding neck out for once!”

The bellow of laughter, like shards bursting in the room had him flinching, “Really? _Really?_ ”

He stared at his brother, anger evident on his features as his lips tightened into a grimace.

“How do you think did you manage not getting into trouble because of your rehab, huh? Who do you think called Mum, so you would have _someone_ to support you?! I stuck my neck out so many times, Sam – but you don’t care about that, do you?”

It hit him like a freight train or well it should. But all he felt was numbness as his brother snorted.

“How could I ever assume that you would do something similar for me? To try and see my point every once in a while?”

Lucifer trembled, anger rushing through his bones, before a sudden tiredness dragged his limbs down. The countless times he had pretended to be his twin for his father to let out his anger on him, the times he had taken his punishment, only for his skin to break and swell with pain. For him trying to forget and drown everything else out.

He let himself fall onto the dark green couch, bracing his weight on his forearms on his knees as he peered up at his brother.

“I think I stuck my neck out often enough”, he said, softly, voice hoarse.

“Yeah? You think?”, Michael raised his voice, disappointment had it trembling, “May I remind you of the Recruitment?”

He closed his eyes as he swallowed down the frustration that clawed its way up his chest.

“That’s not fair”, he growled and if he could’ve set his gaze aflame he would.

“Oh, isn’t it?!”

“You _know_ they were testing us”, he barked, “You know they wanted to know whether we would break!”

Michael’s eyes were fire and a swelling ocean at the same time.

“You just stood by while they cut them open”, his brother held his hands out for him to glance towards. His chest constricted as he could still hear his screaming, still remembered blood and broken joints where the skin had healed together and left pink scars. He resisted the urge to cover his ears, knowing it would be futile.

“I got the full brunt, while you just weaseled your way out somehow!”

“You should’ve just ignored it, pretended that it didn’t bother you, not rage like a maniac!”, he snapped, “Don’t blame it on me!”

“I couldn’t just watch them _torture_ you!”

There was something desperate in his twin’s voice, something broken and he felt his gaze soften.

“Mika. That was the whole point.”

Marred and scared hands formed fists at his side and he was tired. Sick and tired of it.

“I hate it.”

He huffed a breath, “Me too. But still. You just should’ve let it be.”

Michael’s eyes narrowed in suspicion as he unclenched his fingers and started pacing again, pulling his arms so tightly around himself that his hands hid in his armpits.

“Why?”, his voice still carried the anger of before, “It’s not like it changed anything.”

His throat grew unbearably tight, his hand coming up to his sternum to massage the away the ache that thumped against his bone.

“Not for you, no.”

His twin stopped moving, dangerously still as he regarded him.

“Samael-“, he shook his head as if he didn’t dare to believe him, “oh, you idiot, don’t tell me you…?”

He held his brother’s gaze, trying to blink back the burning sensation in his eyes. The image of Chloe holding a newborn Beatrice to her chest flickered through his mind and he hissed a breath, knowing that he would _never_ have that with her.

“Why would you do that?”, Michael gestured, eyes wide open in shock as realization dawned on his face, “What did they do?”

His lower abdomen clenched as phantom pains had his balls stinging. He ignored the last question as a shiver shook his body.

“Why would you make sure my rehab wouldn’t get out, eh?”, he retorted instead. He hated the fact that his brother knew. He hated the thought of being so vulnerable in front of him.

Michael stuttered, clearly thrown off by his initial investigation, before he snapped, “Because – what the bloody hell, mate? Sure. I’ll just watch my twin shoot up so much heroin he can’t even _walk_ straight!”

Lucifer scoffed, glad that he managed to avert crisis numero Recruitment.

“What’s that for a question, you complete wanker?”, his twin continued brows furrowing in the same way his did when he was frustrated beyond reason, “I bloody hated the fact that you would touch that shit anyhow!”

That had him perking up a little, “Of course _you_ would think that. You got to delegate all of the dirty work.”

Michael barked a laugh, cold, cynic. “Sure, blame it on that.”

Aaaand there was the rage again. He was rather good at pushing his buttons. He forced his voice to remain calm, nearly detached.

“Ever held someone’s forearm and broke the ulna and the radius into two? Nay, rather into four?”, he kept his gaze on his brother as he paused.

“Ever cut through a person’s sinews so they would never be able to run again? Ever beaten a child – a teenager to pulp, because it was the order and it was either your head or theirs?”

Michael had fallen quiet and still again.

“I thought so”, he scoffed, “So yeah, I will blame it on Caelum and on Dad, because”, he swallowed and for a moment he feared for his trachea to be squeezed by his father’s fingers again, “I never wanted that. I never wanted to hurt them. But you on the other hand – you could just snap your fingers and it was done.”

“It’s not as easy as you make it out to be, Sam.”

“Tell me”, he growled, patience steadily waning, “did you kill Carl yourself or did you have someone else do it for you?”

Eyes so much like his glistened at the mention of the little, round man with mischief twinkling in his gaze.

“You know I could never do that.”

_Thought so_ , he wanted to say, but the words got stuck on the way out as his brother’s voice cracked, as hoarse as it was.

“He did it himself.”

His hands shook as the force of the revelation knocked his breath out of himself. His eyes slid shut as he tried to get the bile boiling in his stomach under control again.

“I get it. It sucks doing it. I get it. And don’t think I am not glad I don’t have to do what you did – but, Samael”, his eyes caught his and the yearning in them was squeezing all air out of his lungs, “At least you’re _out._ I mean”, he let out a little laugh – bitter – as he walked backwards to slump against the dresser, gesturing vaguely at him, “You have a stable life, a girlfriend, a daughter – “

“She isn’t – and she will never be … _my_ daughter”, he cut in and hated the way his voice broke. No one would _ever_ be his daughter. Or son.

Understanding dawned on his brother’s face.

“Sam, I am sorry”, he spoke quietly, his hands twitching as if he wanted to reach out, “I didn’t know – if I had known, I…”

“That was the whole point. You not knowing.”

“Yeah, but”, Michael pushed himself off the dresser and started pacing again, “wait… what else … what else don’t I know about? Was the Recruitment a one time, thing or…?”, he trailed off at the other’s little huff of a breath.

The way his head fell into his neck as he squinted at the ceiling reminded him of Mum. They stayed silent, before he finally spoke up.

“Let’s just say I was Dad’s favourite punching bag.”

Michael was clenching his jaw as he directed his gaze back at him.

“You are such a fucking tosser, brother.”

“I’ve been made aware of that, thank you very much.”

His lips quirked up into a miniscule smile and something broken and forgotten reared its head as his twin let out a small amused snort.

They froze as they caught each other’s gaze, the high-strung tension leaving the room in a rush. Michael shuffled over to him, slowly as if he feared he would strike at any given moment. With careful movements he let himself sink in the space next to him, a presence next to him that he had missed.

“So”, his brother spoke up, voice trembling ever so slightly, “it was all for _nothing_? All those years”, he swallowed, “that we hated each other? For nothing?”

The weight on his chest threatened to crush his ribcage to get to his heart, his hand coming up to soothe his aching sternum so he wouldn’t double over. He hadn’t remembered it hurting so much.

What he remembered was sitting – back to the wall – in what had been their room for a while in their childhood, curled up into himself, crying because he thought Mika didn’t want him around anymore. He remembered bawling his eyes out, still feeling Dad’s fists raining down on him and his twin’s look that told him he deserved it.

“I”, he said, not managing much more as his throat closed up, “appears so.”

It had all been for nothing. The pain, the hurt, the anger. His relationship with Eve for nothing but broken trust that had splintered into countless shards cutting deep into his soul. His hatred for his brother for nothing more than a figment of their imagination, a ghost of fear. And Chloe? Had it been for nothing too? Was whatever they had found inconsequential as well?

_Get out._

He choked on a sob that he stifled, before he got up in a rush.

“I need to go”, he pressed out, walls closing in on him as he tried to breathe just the way she taught him.

“Sam.”

“I am sorry. I need to go. I need to – I”

His brother had gotten up with him. “Samael, talk to me. What –“, his hands hovered as he reached out to touch his upper arms, but he shied away, skin crawling.

He shook his head, not able to press out something other than a soft, “I’m sorry, Mika.”

With that he willed his feet to move away from the twin he had been missing and disappeared out of the apartment.


	18. Breathe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning peeps! 
> 
> This chapter is -still - angsty and pretty heavy (I put an explicit trigger warning in the end notes! - I am still a little unsure of how to mention those without spoiling the story ^_^')
> 
> that being said - still read with care you peeps!
> 
> I love and appreciate you an impossible amount! <3

He swallowed his head resting against the wall as he closed his eyes. His hand clenched into a fist as he tried to breathe, to calm himself just the way she taught him, but his lungs shook with every breath he took.

_I didn’t call your Mum back then. After rehab._

**_Breathe. Push everything else –_ **

A sob left his lips as he squeezed his lids shut. It hurt. Why was it hurting so much?

Eve laughing in his arms as he told her some silly anecdote.

His eyes flickered open and to the table. He bit his lip, sight blurring the longer he watched the bag on the table. He just wanted peace. He just wanted to forget, to feel as calm as he only did in Chloe’s arms. Chloe.

_Get out. Just take this – and get out._

The hurt in her eyes, the pain evident in her features. Pain he had caused. Why was it that all he touched, all he tried to do right for once would fail? Would inevitably fail? He _hurt_ her. Why couldn’t he stop _hurting_ her? He wanted nothing more than to go _home_ to curl up against her figure and sleep. Forget. Just feel better. To banter with the urchin only for the little imp to threaten him with hugs that he had become fond of over time. But how could he just come to her place – intrude her space as he did so very often, had done the whole time? He was supposed to make her happy. Instead he had dragged her into this – into his fucked up past – a past he would give anything for if he could just forget it.

He could forget. It would be easy. He could. He had the possibility, the opportunity. He had everything here, here in this run down dump of a hotel room. He had sworn himself not to touch the shit ever again, but now that it sat on his table, invitingly staring up at him – why wouldn’t he?

Eve would be disappointed in him, he knew. Hell, Michael would probably throw a fit of rage – but they didn’t have to know, did they?

Chloe would hate it – she would. Even Maze would.

_I am so proud of who you’ve become._

He scoffed, a watery sound in an empty room. He wished he would feel empty again. His fingers clenched and unclenched as if they were considering to reach out. His eyes brushed over the syringe. Chloe would not hate it, she would hate _him_ for it. And somehow he didn’t care. All the reasons he had worked through in rehab with his therapist, well, they were all bloody useless right now, weren’t they?

Get out of his family’s bullshit. Have a life with Eve. Have a family. Well, they all knew he would never have that, didn’t they? He wiped his nose, while he tried to get his trembling jaw under control.

_I am sorry. Eve?_

_I slept with him. And I always wished it was you._

The growl of frustration slipped into a howl as he hit the floor with his fist. It didn’t hurt as much as he wanted it to. He wanted it to hurt. Why didn’t it hurt? Maybe everything else would stop hurting.

There was another way of making it stop hurting, but he knew he shouldn’t, that once he fell back into the rabbit hole it would be nearly impossible to get out. That it would diminish everything he had ever done to get out. That the past ten years were bloody useless, but well – that’s what they were anyhow, weren’t they? Lies lived for years – what did it matter?

He closed his eyes again. _Breathe. Push everything else aside. Just focus in what is in front of you._

A strangled laugh made it past his lips. Maybe he should. Focus on what was in front of him, that was. He pried his hot and swollen lids open as he took in a shuddering breath. It would be so easy to open the baggie, to clean his spoon and needle, heat it up until it melted, mesmerizing like molten caramel that would be a familiar taste on his tongue and remind him of Christmas early in his youth only for the liquid to flood his veins.

His fingers itched to reach out. To reach out and finally feel like something made sense again. He could handle disappointment, he had been nothing else his whole life. He could handle disappointing Chloe, he was sure had done that often enough – had let her down trying to get her to get along with Eve, making her see him choosing Eve over her. He could handle disappointing her. The urchin flashed in front of his inner eye and it took the air out of his lungs.

He grit his teeth, pressing his eyes shut as he rested his forehead on his forearm. A keen, choked and compressed left his throat. Would he be able to look the child in the eye and tell her he wasn’t around anymore because he had been too weak, too pathetic to get himself to stop? He tried to grab onto the thought, the thought of the little girl dozing on his lap, curling into him, trusting and loving, but it slipped through his aching fingers. He couldn’t hold onto it, he wanted to, so desperately, but he _couldn’t_. It wouldn’t matter anyway. Chloe had told him to leave, hadn’t she? Why did he still care if it was over anyhow?

_Beatrice, urchin,_ a sob escaped him, _I am so sorry. I am sorry, I can’t do it._

He shook and there was nothing he could do against it and damn him if it didn’t feel familiar. How many nights had he spent like this already? Had he spent pumping himself with drugs because he couldn’t handle the pain and the violence and the hatred that ran deep in his family? Because he didn’t know what to do without her?

His heart accelerated as his fingers scrambled for his phone, reaching for the last, flimsy lifeline that he could get. His hands trembled so badly he nearly didn’t manage to unlock his phone and it fueled the hatred in his veins again and again, stoked the flames higher for it to burn him from the inside out. His sight blurred and his eyes stung from the blinding light in the darkness, blue and accusing as he scrolled through his contacts. A sound escaped him that could’ve belonged to an animal about to be slaughtered.

He missed the call button, twice, before he lifted the beeping device up to his ear.

The sound was too loud in the room, too cold and it seemed to burn him.

It was useless. Of course, it was bloody useless.

_It was all for nothing?_

His fingers itched to throw the thing against the wall next to him. His bleary gaze stuck on the syringe again. He still remembered how to hit a vein, after all those years. Like riding a bicycle.

“Richards, speaking.”

It hit the air out of his chest and he choked. He had hoped for his trembling to subside, but instead he let out a harsh sob. His cheeks felt numb.

“Who is this?”

There were sounds in the background, voices chattering, the clatter of doors and steps. For a moment he didn’t dare to breathe, before –

“ _Mum_?”

An intake of breath as heels moved across a tiled floor. The sounds subsided.

“Samael? Is that you, son?”

There was a tremble in her voice, barely there but still, he would know. He would always know. He only managed a wet sound of affirmation.

“Samael, my angel”, it was so good to hear her, soft and tender and he _missed_ her.

“ _Mum_ ”, he repeated and all he could do was try to calm down, heaving choked off breaths that nearly suffocated him.

“What is it, my sweet boy?”

He knew she was trying to reassure him and it broke him apart. He hadn’t realized how much he had _missed_ her. It had all been for nothing – decades wasted.

His chest was lifting in a frantic pattern, unable for him to calm.

“She’s alive, Eve is alive and – and Mika knew, he helped her and – she was lying to me, Mum. She – nothing was real and –“

“Sam”, his name was spoken so very tenderly his heart shied away from its soft caress.

“and Chloe was right and I ruined it and – it _hurts_. It hurts so _much_. I don’t know what to do. I just want it to stop hurting – Mum, how do I make it stop?”, the words rushed from his lips while he tried to keep the sobs under control, not that he managed that very well.

“I need you to breathe for me, son. Breathe – push everything else aside.”

“I’m trying”, he whimpered, “I’ve been trying the whole fucking time, it’s not working, Mum. Please. _Please_ , I just wanna forget.”

She fell silent on the other end of the line and for a horrifying moment he panicked that she had hung up. He was struggling for air.

“Samael”, her voice was firm and insistent, “I want you to listen to me. Can you do that for me?”

He nodded, knowing she couldn’t see it, but his sniff seemed to be enough.

“I want you to throw the drugs into the rubbish, alright? But now I just need you to focus on my voice, okay? Nothing else. I just want you to listen to my voice. Okay?”, she added.

He swallowed, nodding again as his lids slid shut, his cheeks wet from tears, “ _Okay_.”

“You are doing wonderful, my son. I love you. I love you so very much, you understand? So very much.”

Her voice was like the silky sheets on his bed, soft and soothing against his skin, his soul, even if it did tremble.

“And I am so very proud of you for calling me.”

He managed to swallow the wet sound he made, the heaving of his chest _finally_ slowing.

The back of his head hit the wall behind him as he focused on breathing, while his mother continued, “I am so glad to hear your voice, my son. Just breathe for me, okay?”

He sucked in the air with a snotty nose, “Yeah.”

So he did breathe. It still hurt, but it would cease eventually, he knew. He listened to the chatter in the background, creaking doors and steps, loud against his ear and in the dark.

“Are you still listening, son?”

“Yeah”, he gulped down air in desperate gasps, his eyes unfocused on the orange glow of the streetlight. It reminded him of home. His chest constricted again.

“I’ve missed you, my angel. It’s been so long.”

He nodded rapidly, knowing she couldn’t see it. It had been so very long indeed. He hadn’t heard her voice in nearly a decade and his already drowning soul spilled over with relief.

“I-“, he croaked, but a woman’s curt voice interrupted his pathetic attempt to reply on the other end of the line.

“What?”, his mother snapped and despite himself he flinched.

“ _Charlotte are you coming? The hearing started – well, should have started five minutes ago.”_

It was quiet for a moment and his mother heaved a sigh. He gripped the phone tighter – his heart dropped in his chest. He didn’t want her to leave. But of course he was disrupting her schedule. A whine rose in his throat that he swallowed. He was a grown man, he had stopped needing his mother when he was fifteen and yet here he was, pathetic and needy. He didn’t want her to leave. He just wanted her to stay on the line with him, his lifeline that threatened to slip out of his fingers. He might not have needed her in all those years, but he needed her _now._

“Well, then I suggest you find a replacement. Tell Clara. She should be able to do this just fine.

“ _Charlotte_ -“, the woman sounded exasperate.

“Did I stutter?”, his mother’s voice was cold in a way only she managed and he closed his eyes, another tear trailing down his skin, while steps hurried along a tiled floor.

“You”, he managed, voice incredibly hoarse, “you don’t need to – to skip the hearing. Because of me.”

“Of course, I do”, she scoffed, “Son, you are quite a bit more important than some client I have to represent.”

He swallowed as his chest expanded in a relieved breath.

“Oh.”

The huff that sounded through the speaker was soft.

“I love you, Sam. It’s okay, I am here. I am not going anywhere.“

He sniffed again, nodded more to himself than anybody else and held his breath to slowly release it. His heart was still pounding in his chest.

“ _Thank you”_ , he whispered.

“Of course, my wonderful boy. Of course.”

He sucked in another breath, finally, _finally,_ able to get his breathing under control. For a moment they just listened to each other’s silence, basking in a connection he had thought lost for good.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”, she eventually broke the quiet, her question gentle.

He closed his eyes, head exhaustedly lolling against the wall.

_It was all for nothing?_

_And I always wished it was you._

_I couldn’t just watch them torture you._

**_Get out._ **

“Yeah”, he said, tremors shaking the word on his tongue as he began to tell her about Eve’s assassination, the fact he had thought she had been dead and had tried so, so hard to get through the haze of grief only to find out it had all been a lie and for her to hide the truth, the one person he had trusted unconditionally that had betrayed him, about Michael who he had been so afraid of and who had only tried to look out for him, about how they hated each other since he could remember her leaving all for _nothing_.

“Oh, my angel”, she only said, “I love you”, she said, “I am here for you.”

“I just wanna go home”, he said, voice stiff and desperate, “I just-“

A beeping sound tore him out of his daze as he flinched violently and dragged the phone from his ear to look at the too bright screen. His fingers were aching and numb and he blinked sluggishly.

_Detective <3_

Chloe. Her name slipped past his lips without him noticing as his heart thundered in his chest. He didn’t want to pick up, not like this – he couldn’t let her see him like this. His finger shook as he dismissed her.

“Who is Chloe?”, his mother’s voice was dipped into curiosity and a slight suggestive intonation that had him chuckle wetly.

“Ah – she’s”, he swallowed and his heart hurt when he thought about being curled around her slim frame, “She’s my partner.”

“Work partner or –“

“No, my … my girlfriend.“

“Oh, I see. Tell me more.”

His lips quirked into a little smile, bitter, but still. So he told her about Chloe, about the Detective that had finally allowed him to love again, who had made him laugh harder than he had in years, who had challenged him and baffled him and shown him so much support he thought his heart might burst out of its seams.

“So why are you not with her then?”

“We”, his voice was tense, “We had a fight.”

She hummed in his ear, “About Eve, I presume?”

His mother’s voice dripped with distaste at the woman’s name and the sudden urge to protect Eve came to his mind, but he shoved it back down. Eve could very well clean up her own messes from now on.

“Yeah and I just…”

“You could just apologize to her”, she said, softly if a little confused.

“Not - not like this, not now. She deserves better than that.”

“Than what?”

He let out a rough breath, a hoarse sound that reverberated in the empty room. His gaze fell onto the baggie on the table.

“Than an apology of my fucked up self, right now. She doesn’t – not like this.”

“Sam.”

“No, Mum. She deserves better.”

The sigh was long and fond and woeful as she finally spoke,” Son, you have yet to realize that _you_ deserve better.”

He fell silent, not able to breathe for a split second.

_I think you’re giving the world more than enough, Lucifer Morningstar._

“Go to sleep, Sam”, she said, voice soft, “everything will look differently tomorrow, alright?”

He let his eyes slid close. He was knackered, not able to get himself to stand up and drag himself onto the bed. A shudder ran along his spine despite the fact that it was sweltering outside.

“Can you-“, he clenched his jaw, feeling stupid. He didn’t want to be alone. He didn’t want to be left alone with his thoughts. He felt like the boy back then, curled up in his dark room, alone and miserable, despite the fact that he was in his late thirties already.

“Yes?”

He squeezed his lids shut as he whispered, “ _Can you stay on the line until I fall asleep_?”

“Of course”, she whispered back, something as soft as a smile in her voice, “of course, my angel.”

Something eased of his chest as he managed to stagger towards the bed, tossing off his shoes and leather jacket and crawled under the blanket, his eyes sliding shut in exhaustion as his head hit the pillow. He drifted off to sleep to the gentle humming of his mother, phone still clutched close to his ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: This deals with heroin addiction and a possible relapse! If this is in anyway painful and upsetting to you - please either read with care or skip this chapter!!
> 
> That being said: Addiction of any kind, especially to drugs, alcohol, self harming behaviour etc is a serious issue and if you think you do suffer of a kind of a addiction, please reach out to your friends and family, to then further reach out trained professionals who can help you on feeling better! 
> 
> Remember you are loved and worthy and it is going to be okay eventually!


	19. He was home.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer comes home to Chloe for them to talk out their issues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning peeps! 
> 
> I am smiling so hard you guys - I cannot say how much I adore and love your feedback! Aside from the obvious - to tell this story in the best way I can - I want to create a space where people feel safe, respected and appreciated, so believe me when I say that I do appreciate every single one of you! 
> 
> Because I actively read a lot (like a lot XD) I often put the writers of the story in a pedestal and stare up with adoring eyes, because "woooow, they wrote that!"
> 
> Now I am looking at you peeps and I go "Woooow, they are so amazing they read that" with stars in my eyes! I cannot tell you how much your feedback and your kudos and your reads mean to me! 
> 
> I am sending you all the love in my heart! 
> 
> let's get to this chapter!

Early morning sun blinked through the curtains as Chloe woke, with eyes swollen and neck stiff from her curled up position on the couch. She had waited and waited and waited for him to come home, but he didn’t. He hadn’t picked up the phone when she called and she couldn’t even deny she was scared. So she had sat at the couch, phone desperately clutched in her hand as tears trailed along her cheeks and waited until night had fallen and even beyond that. She had waited until the exhaustion of the day had caught up with her and she had given into sleep’s persuasion.

She felt like a truck had run her over, eyes sticky and swollen with tears, her nose stuffy and her throat dry, while her body ached in all the wrong places. Everything felt wrong. She would call in sick, she decided, her stiff arms reaching for the phone in a hurry. Maybe Lucifer had answered her text. All it took was turning her screen on to realize he didn’t and for the fear to boil back up in her throat. Her fingers shook as she unlocked her phone to call her superior. She had started biting her nails while she did. It was only six am. He was probably still asleep, sleeping off his hangover and waiting for the ethanol in his veins to turn back to blood. He would call her as soon as he saw her messages. Maybe he would even come home and they could get over that stupid fight. Yeah.

She nodded to herself, hands pressed to her lips as she decided she needed a shower and some coffee to at least feel human again. She could catch up on some paperwork until Lucifer would come home. Maybe prepare some of her Dad’s sandwiches for when he was hungry. Yes, this is what she would do. Ignoring her frantically beating heart she got up and made her way to the bathroom. Everything would look differently once she washed off yesterday’s heartache.

She was used to pulse raising situations and sleep deprivation, but this was something entirely different. Was this how he had felt when she hadn’t picked up her phone at their stakeout in Hallets Point? She hadn’t even downed her second cup of coffee but she felt jittery and restless like she was riding a caffeine high. The arrest reports in front of her were untouched – opening the file didn’t count. Her eyes glanced down to her phone ever so often and every minute seemed to pass slower than it should. Why wasn’t he calling her back? Was he okay? She really hoped he was okay and not drunk and passed out in some alley. She shuddered as she paled.

_I’m clean. Don’t worry. I wouldn’t._

She hoped, no she prayed to every entity that she could think of that he didn’t. Her chest grew painfully tight at the thought and she willed herself to breathe. Burying her head between her fingers she tried to keep the tears from falling that welled up in her eyes. There shouldn’t even be any liquid left for her to lose.

He had said hurtful things, quite a bunch of them actually, but right now she didn’t care. She just wanted him back, hold him in her arms and make sure he was okay. She’d been awake for three hours and she hated every minute that he wasn’t answering her. She sniffed, swallowed. Tried to compose herself.

She flinched violently as the familiar sound of a key being inserted in the keyhole on her front door sounded and with a silent click it opened up. Her heart lurched in her chest. He was home. He was home. She could’ve choked on the lump in her throat as it finally dissolved. The door was quietly pushed close as if he suspected her to be still asleep and didn’t want to wake her. She wanted to call out for him, but her tongue was numb as were her lips. He was equally silent when he put away his shoes and jacket before he padded into view, a white paper bag and his phone in hand and froze like a deer in headlights as he saw her.

Relief washed over her so violently, she could’ve cried.

“Detective”, he said and his voice was as hoarse as hers, “ah – I stopped at the precinct but I was told you called in sick. My apologies for not calling. My battery gave out on me while talking to the urchin.”

He carefully put said phone onto the shelf next to him.

“It’s fine”, she managed to say, dumbly, as the tiniest of exhausted, but happy smiles stole itself onto her face.

He lingered, as if unsure of what to do or what to say, of whether he was even welcome and she bit her lips.

“Do you want coffee?” “Can we talk?”

His lips quirked into a shaky smile and she nodded.

“Yes, to both I presume?”, he said softly and she let out another, small but grateful breath.

He was here. He was okay. Well. Okay was a relative term. He was still wearing yesterday’s shirt, creased and a little stained, his hair an unruly mess that had been tamed – or at least he tried to. His face was gaunt, his eyes bloodshot. He looked like hell. But he was here and that was everything that counted.

She got up to pour him a cup of coffee, using the one Winnie the Pooh mug sporting Tigger that he always snitched from Trixie.

“Are you hungry? Do you want some egg sandwiches? Or –“

“It’s fine, Detective”, he said, his voice a lot closer now and the battered barstool was pulled back and scrapped along the floor. Paper crinkled as it was set down.

“Are you sure?”, she turned, handing him the coffee and his gaze softened as he took the mug from her. His cold fingers brushed hers with a soft “Thank you.”

“I can make you something else too. Like scrambled eggs and toast and orange juice”, she offered, her still trembling hands needing something to occupy themselves with.

“I – no need to -”, he paused, his gaze found hers hurting and dark, before he swallowed, “ _Yes_. Please.”

She nodded, hurrying to grab a pan from the drawer and to gather the ingredients needed. She worked in silence, her fingers finally calming enough for her to trust them to do their job on their own.

“So”, she tried conversationally and nearly cringed, “what’s in that bag? The one you brought with you.”

She gestured with her spatula, while two slices of toast jumped out of their very own solarium.

“Ah”, she supposed she caught him in a daze, as he stuttered, “Lemon bars.”

She paused in whatever she was doing, turning down the stove so the eggs wouldn’t burn. A warmth spread in her belly that chased away the cold anger and burning fear from her insides.

“For – for me?”, she couldn’t help, but regard him with a shy, yet excited smile.

He chuckled, his lips quirking in tender amusement. “Of course, for you. I asked the urchin for her expert advice. I hope it doesn’t disappoint.”

She shook her head, happy smile still spreading, “They’re my favourite.”

“Well, then”, he said and the rest of the sentence got stuck in his throat as he fell silent. She directed her attention back to his breakfast, scraping her very scrambled eggs onto the plate along with the toast, before getting butter and a glass of orange juice – the one from concentrate – and putting the meal in front of him. It did look a little sad in her opinion, but a genuine smile – a tired smile, but a genuine one nevertheless – spread on his face.

“ _Thank you_ ”, he said so earnestly it took her by surprise.

“Oh, it’s fine”, she chuckled a little confused, before her fingers seized the paper bag. She caught Lucifer’s satisfied nod as she pulled it open and extracted one lemon bar from it.

“Thank you.”

“It’s – it’s nothing.”

She rolled her eyes, sinking her teeth into the buttery and perfectly delicious treat, lemon cest burst on her tongue, mingling with the sugar. It was mouthwatering. Trying to keep crumbs from falling out of her mouth with her hand she made a happy little sound that was maybe a little too sexual around Lucifer, but instead of turning it into an inuendo he just huffed a little sound of amusement. Her happiness staggered a little, her chest filling with lead as she devoured two of the three lemon bars, leaving one for him that she nudged into his direction like a cat wanting to share its treat with its friend.

He had already demolished whatever she had put on his plate and washed it down with the orange juice, not even complaining once about it not having pulp in it, before reaching out for the bar. When had been the last time he had eaten? Watching the cake disappear in his mouth too, she waited, her heart accelerating again. Was this where they could no longer avoid addressing the elephant in the room?

“I”, she started, words rolling in her mouth, but Lucifer got up, his hand lifting as if he wanted to take her hand before he thought better of it and gathered his mug to make his way to the couch. She followed his lead. They sank into the cushions next to each other, silence hanging above them in a thick blanket of tension. The upper arm against her shoulder was taut, and Lucifer released a shaking and controlled breath. She put her coffee on the table, stole his from his fingers to join the other’s fate. He looked at her in slight surprise.

“C’mere”, she murmured, her hands found his stubbled cheeks, caressed them tenderly, before gently pulling his lips down to hers.

She was just so glad he was okay. He tensed for a split second, before he melted into her, mouth warm and grateful as one of his hands slid along her waist, the other coming up to bury in her still a little damp strands. He tasted like cigarettes, bitter and rough, along with a hint of coffee and lemon bars. Her lips pressing another soft peck to his she separated, pulling him a little closer as they released a relieved breath together. Her arms came around his waist as she hugged him, while his forehead bumped against her shoulder. She could feel the slight tremors running through his body. Had the food been enough or was his blood sugar still an unstable mess? She breathed him in, slightly scrunching her nose at the sour smell of stress.

“My apologies”, he murmured against her shoulder as if he had sensed her, “I smell.”

“That’s fine. I even love you stinky.”

He laughed a shaky laugh, before releasing a harsh sound as he tensed.

“What’s wrong?”, she hurried to scoot back, but he only held her tighter, “Lucifer-“

“What isn’t?”

His voice was brittle and exhausted and it had her heart whining in protest, frantically searching for a way to comfort him.

“Oh, love”, she whispered, pressing kisses to the side of his head, her hands drawing circles along his back, careful where his scars were.

“I’m sorry”, she furrowed her brows, not understanding, “For being such a well, complete sack of arse yesterday.”

Her breath hitched as gratefulness washed over the waves of hurt, diminishing them. 

“I didn’t – I didn’t mean – I trust you. I do. So much. I am sorry.”

“Okay”, she whispered, squeezing him tighter, “I am sorry too. I was hurt, but I didn’t mean to shout like that.”

“It’s fine, Detective.”

She shook her head with a huff, gently pulling away. He sniffed as he sat up, hands fiddling with his ring.

“Do you wanna tell me what happened yesterday?”

Her thumb caressed the side of his face as he nodded, his lips a grim line. He barked a harsh sound, squeezing his eyes shut with a grimace, before he readied himself.

She was about to tell him that he didn’t have to, if he didn’t want to, but he threw her an admonishing look as if he had read her mind.

“I have to”, he told her and she nodded, reaching for his hand to tangle their fingers together. He held hers a little tighter than was comfortable, but it was fine. He was home and that was what counted.

“I went to Eve right after we”, he gestured, “you know. Fought. I showed her what you collected and she admitted”, his voice broke, “she admitted that it was true, that Michael hid her in St. Petersburg and that she knew him… that she lied to me.”

Anger welled up in her, but she knew it wasn’t her place. But oh, if she could shoot that woman –

“Lucifer”, she didn’t know what else to say, didn’t know what else to do, but to hold his hand tighter in hers. His tongue flitted out to wet his lips and he blinked rapidly, his other palm coming up to his chest.

“And”, his voice shook, “I… she slept with Michael.”

The couch seemed to sway underneath her, because honestly she hadn’t see that coming – she should have – but before she could even open her mouth, he continued.

“And honestly, I can’t – I can’t blame her. It has been years, she is free to – to be with whoever she wants, but she didn’t… why didn’t she tell me? Why did she have to _lie_ to me?”, the word was a strangled syllable on his tongue and Chloe scooted closer to his side.

“She told me she _loved_ me, when she came back. That she wanted to be with me again and that she waited for me – and I felt _horrible_ about it. Why did she…?”

His mouth opened and closed helplessly as he was searching for words to express what he was trying to say. But Chloe understood plenty just like that. She understood more than enough. Resting her chin on his upper arm she pressed her body against his, desperate to melt and fuse with him in order to take at least some of his pain away.

“She was ashamed”, she whispered, “And I am not saying what she did was right, it was _awful_ but she was ashamed of herself for giving in, I think.”

He sniffed, swallowing, the muscles in his jaw working.

“She used him”, the blatant anger in his voice took her by surprise – even though it was his brother, he had never shown that much regard for his person. What was she missing?

“She used him and”, he clenched his fingers, the ones that had rested on his chest, “I want to be mad at her – and I am. I am furious, but I just – it _hurts_ more than I am mad and I hate it.”

“I know”, she whispered against his taut arm, pressing a kiss to the strained muscles in hopes that it would get him to relax. It didn’t.

He sat next to her for a moment, still while his chest heaved.

“You know what the worst thing is?”, he asked, voice hoarse and empty.

She shook her head against his side.

“That wasn’t the first time she lied to me. She”, his lips quivered as he drew in a trembling breath. She looked at him and his eyes were glazed with hurt, “she told Michael about my overdose. In all those years that I – that I trusted her, I shouldn’t have. She lied to me. Again. And again. It makes me wonder what else she lied about.”

His voice broke and so did her heart as she manipulated his tall figure into her arms, shaking with anger and numbness as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, large hands gripping her lower back tightly.

_How could she betray him like this? How could she do this to him?_

She rocked him slowly in her arms, pressing soft kisses to his neck, his hair in a desperate attempt to glue the broken pieces together. Fury burned brighter inside her chest as the man she loved so very much was doing his best not to fall apart in her arms.

He pulled away, his lips whispering a grateful kiss to her cheek as he sat back up, forcing himself to continue.

“After that I went to see Michael – wanted to know what the hell was going on – maybe to punch the living daylights out of him. So we _talked_ and you know what?”

She could feel him wanting to get up and pace, but his body wasn’t having it it seemed as his legs had him slumping back into the cushions again.

The words were forced out of the confines of grit teeth.

“It was all for _nothing._ ”

She furrowed her brows in confusion, “What was?”

“Every little thing that I hated him over, every single year that I thought he hated me and that he had sided with Dad – it was all a lie. He – he made sure my rehab wouldn’t come out, he called my mother for me, so she could be there for me. He risked his neck and protected Eve in all those years. And everything he accused me off? Every time that he thought I turned against him, I didn’t. All for”, he choked on his breath, “We hated each other for 20 years. All for _nothing.”_

A tear trailed along his cheek that he wiped away in a haste.

“Lucifer”, her throat closed tightly, but she didn’t know what to do, what to say, but to hold his hand. He pulled it away, but this time she understood. They sat in silence, her unsure of what to say, her hand lightly playing with the hair in his nape. He needed to wash it soon.

“You know the reason I can’t have offspring”, he began out of the blue and it took her so by surprise her heart accelerated painfully in her chest, “is not because I chose to. Not because I was born like that, but because they took it from me. For a disobedience that I masked as mine even though it wasn’t.”

She stared, fingers trembling in his hair, “You pretended to be Michael.”

He grimaced and nodded, his figure tensing more.

“You don’t have to –“

“I need to”, his eyes found hers, so very close to spilling over, “I need to tell _someone_ about it before it eats me up. Please, Chloe.”

“Okay. Of course”, she hurried to whisper, “of course.”

He swallowed, more nodding to himself than to her, before he continued, “During the Recruitment they tested us plenty. Our strength, our wit, our obedience. They needed us to be loyal to Caelum above all. Heaven needed to come before friends, before family.”

His voice was trembling, oozing with a trauma so painful it clung to the air.

“They tortured us in front of each other, tried to see who would break first. If we would break.”

A silent cry clung to her vocal cords as she surged up in her seat, a choked off sound left her lips as she curled around him in a sudden urge to protect him, to keep him hidden from the world and the pain while she went out to punish whoever had done this to him. His hands found her upper arms as they tangled into each other in a grotesque heap of limbs.

“They – they cut Mika’s hands open, broke all his joints and I couldn’t interfere, couldn’t say anything because they were testing us and I knew that. I _knew_. But he was crying Chloe, Mika never cries – he _never_ cries. And I just wanted them to stop, so I thought if I kept quiet, if I passed the test they would let him go. But”, a sniff wrangled itself free, followed by a breath as if to compose himself. Chloe couldn’t even attempt to do that as she was quietly crying against his shoulder.

“But they didn’t. When it was my turn, Michael caved so very quickly. And I knew he would be punished for it and that’s when I couldn’t take it anymore. So”, another breath, “I pretended to be him and collected his punishment. A…a”, his voice broke as a shudder ran along his spine.

“You don’t have to”, Chloe breathed against his cheek, her mind going places, dark and desperate places.

He leaned into her, swallowing again and she felt a tear run past where her lips laid.

“They performed a vasectomy”, his rasp shook as he continued, “nothing against the pain and-“, his voice broke with another shudder and she clung onto him, pressing kisses to his neck.

A whimper escaped her chest, her whole body frozen and cold in horror at the realization as she pressed him tighter to her as if that could remedy all the years of pain. How was he even still here? How hadn’t he caved from the pain and secret horrors he was carrying with him? His arms pushed her closer to him as he breathed in her scent, only the slightest bit shaky and she didn’t understand how he was so collected when she was falling apart over something that happened to him. But maybe that was the problem. That it happened to him, to _her_ Lucifer.

“What I told you was true. I never really wanted children, but then I look at you, look at Beatrice I can’t help but _wish_ that I could have that”, his next words were quiet and tremulous, “that _we_ could have that.”

She pressed wet and salty kisses to his skin because it was like a part of her was ripped away, a yearning for something she couldn’t even have, that she only had fleetingly thought of overwhelmed her with a force she couldn’t have anticipated. A piece of him and her and them, a child born from love and acceptance. She knew Lucifer would be a good father, no matter what he said. She could see it when he was interacting with Trixie, could see how much he cared. The possibility had been ripped away from him, from them, before they had even known of each other.

“I love you”, she whispered into his skin, “I love you. You are enough. What we have is enough.” And he held her even closer as she felt his tears on her skin.

It had taken them a while to gather their breaths, to calm as they clung to each other, softly kissing and pressing pecks to each other’s skin, gentle and tender reassurances and despite all the bad something warm bloomed inside her.

Lucifer looked at her as if she had just gratuitously taken a burden off his shoulders and freed him of something that had weighed him down for decades.

“So”, she said, taking a sip of her now cold coffee, “that’s where you were at? At Michael’s place?”

Just when she had thought they had found stable ground under their feet he tensed. She turned worriedly.

“Lucifer?”

He was staring at the mug in his hands. It trembled.

“What’s wrong?”, she put hers aside and tried to catch his gaze, but he looked away. His mouth was a tight grimace and she felt bereft, the floor underneath her feet gone again. Her legs decided they needed to stand and so she got up to pace. They felt weak, felt as if she had been paralyzed and was scared for her knees to give out again.

His eyes flickered up to her, dark and dreading, before he put his coffee onto the table, lifted his hips and pulled something from his back pocket.

A syringe, a spoon and a baggie filled with beige powder landed with a light clank on the wood. She froze. That looked like heroin. If she had thought her legs were weak it was nothing to what she felt now, staggering against the wall, her hand covering her mouth.

No. Please. Please, anything but this. Please.

Her gaze found Lucifer, slumped and drawn into himself on the couch, his forearms resting on his knees while his eyes clung to the table’s plate.

_Come on, Decker. Come on._

She drew in a breath. Another one as she calmed her thoughts, slipped into rational Chloe, into quick thinking Chloe, into her role as a Detective. Well, at least into the rational part that came with the Detective, but there was also something fierce and protective that reared its head.

She sat down next to him, her gaze on the table that held drug paraphernalia. Slowly and calm.

“Lucifer. Did you take any of it?”

The screaming and crying self that had been her half an hour ago had disappeared in the depths of her soul. She didn’t know what she would do if he did.

He shook his head, unable to look at her. She was sure he had to have some kind of tension in his back already. Her heart trembled in relief. _Thank something, someone._

“Okay”, she said gently, “I will take care of them. Lucifer.”

He still didn’t react.

“Lucifer, please look at me.”

Only then he lifted his head, his gaze still averted. Her hands cupped his cheeks and finally he met her eyes. Hers searched something in his, urging him to understand. It was an addiction, something that would claw its way along his being once things got tough, would whisper to him and tempt him with the most painful truths that were so often lies fabricated by his mind.

“I am proud of you, Lucifer. I am so proud of you for pushing through this. I love you.”

He stared at her disbelieving and with so much unconcealed self-loathing that it broke her heart, before a sob left his lips and he crumbled into her. Her heart broke all over again, with her unable to collect the shards as she was trying to keep his from falling. She wasn’t aware of the tears that fell from her eyes. She felt numb and she was hurting for this strong man in front of her. Her fingers carded soothingly through his hair, her lips pressed trembling kisses against his temple as he clung to her. All she could tell him, over and over again was how much she loved him, how proud she was of him, that it was okay, he was home.

She didn’t know how long it took, but his grip on her figure eased and he pulled away. With a ferocity that she hadn’t anticipated he captured her lips, his mouth hot and salty against hers, but she readily melted against him, answered the kiss with the same urgency as he did. She had been so scared. She had been so scared, while he had broken apart, so very close to losing himself again. But he was here. He was _here_ and she needed him like the air she was breathing. Her hands found his face, pulling him further to her, while his arms wound around her body so she was flush against him.

***

Her name of his lips was something between a moan and a whimper as he pulled her into his lap before he lifted her up. Crossing her ankles in the small of his back she got carried to their bedroom, Lucifer collapsing on it with her in his arms, his lips not breaking their kiss. Only when they ridded themselves of their clothes, they separated, but couldn’t stay apart for long. She needed him. Lucifer tugged her down with him onto the mattress. Pulling the blanket above each other, before he wound his arms tightly around her and held her, his naked skin so warm and familiar against hers.

His heart thudded rhythmically underneath it and she sighed in content. She tilted her head up to meet his lips and when they did, they tasted like desperation and love and things that he wanted to say but got stuck in his throat.

His hand found the side of her face, cupping it to pull her closer to him. She melted against him, mouth warm and tasting like home. A shudder ran along her spine, chased by goose bumps as his tongue slid across her lips, while his hand gripped her frame tightly. A quiet, needy sound escaped her as she reciprocated his kiss, hands shifting against his muscles.

“ _Chloe_ ”, he gasped against her, helping her slide above him.

His skin was feverishly warm underneath her touch as she straddled him, pressing her body closely to his. His hand slipped along her torso, broad and with intent. It travelled along her side while his lips made their way along her jaw and down to the side of her neck. She whimpered softly against him as the gates held closed by worry opened and had desire running along her veins. She grinded against him – he was warm and hard and she yearned for him – enjoying his breathless gasp that brushed hot against her skin. Encouraged she sat up, her hands propped against his chest. His gaze roved heated and dark over her figure, his hands holding on onto her hips as she slowly rutted against him. A sound that had escaped his lips warmth swooping low in her belly. As if deciding that she was too far away he sat up for his arms to encircle her and her to end up nestled against his torso as her lips travelled across his skin, sucking and nipping.

He lay hard against her core, each desperate push sending sparks along her whole body.

“Lucifer”, she moaned quietly as he bruised the side of her neck with his mouth.

They yearned to feel each other, skin to skin, warmth to warmth. When he finally slid home, she couldn’t stop the languid moan that escaped her, that had him chuckle.

“Detective”, he whispered breathily, thrusting up into her. Tears still swam in his eyes, but they glistened with adoration and relief that had her chest constricting.

She rolled her eyes with a fond, but watery smile and began grinding against him, marvelling in how he felt inside her, how perfectly he fit inside her. With her small hands holding onto his shoulders to ride him and his heated gaze and the rapture on his features she felt powerful. Their bodies melted into one, connected and close, sweating and heated as they moved.

“ _Lucifer_ ”, she moaned, voice throaty and mouth slightly agape. He filled her so well.

Something complicated took over his expression. Something longing that mingled with hurt in his eyes that had her slowing her movements.

“Lucifer, are you–“, he pulled her even closer, the angle making her insides sing with delight, “ _okay?_ ”, left her lips in a moan.

He buried his face in the crook of her neck as he shook his head.

“Love”, she whispered gently, “Whatever it is, you can tell me, okay? I am here for you.”

She felt him nod against her. Their naked bodies glistened with sweat as they moved like waves against the shore.

“Can you”, she nearly hadn’t heard him as his hands clenched at her hips. Her own came up to thread her fingers through his hair, rubbing soothing circles at his nape. His voice cracked slightly as he continued.

_“_ Can you …say my name again _? My_ name. Not – not Samael, just – _”_

“Of course”, she rushed to whisper, sealing their lips, “of course.”

As she pulled away from him to look him in the eye all she found was utter vulnerability. He was stripped from all walls and protective barriers and all that was left was him. All of him. The years that she hadn’t been in his life. The pain his family had caused, _he_ had caused himself. The hope, the passion that cursed through his veins. Her heart constricted painfully in her chest, because how was it possible to love someone so much? Her hands came up to cup his face and his glistening eyes to meet hers in the pale light of her room. He felt warm and good and known to her – all of him, even if he wanted nothing more than to forget those years in the past that hurt him so much

Her heart was trying to burst out of her ribcage and embrace him as he let out a silent whine.

She smiled then, gently – cursing at the tears that welled up in her eyes – hoping to convey all she couldn’t put in words, all the love and yearning and devotion that she wanted him to know she felt. Slowly as if to savour and bask in their embrace it she grinded against him, closing her eyes as pleasure washed over her. As she opened them, her hands still cupped his cheeks as he stared at her wordlessly.

“ _Lucifer_ ”, she whispered reverently.

The way his face morphed to awe had her trembling. His grip tightened around her, while his eyes shone with a naiveté, with bone deep relief, with overflowing love. His lips parted ever so slightly as he regarded her as if she was his redemption.

“I love you, Lucifer. My lightbringer”, she moved forward to seal his lips with hers and she didn’t miss the choked off sound that rumbled in his throat.

“Chloe”, he whimpered, tears eventually spilling over his skin, but it didn’t matter, because he was home, they were home and it would all be fine.

“I’ve got you, Lucifer”, she murmured, lifting herself off his lap and sank down on him again, “You are so loved and such a good person and I am so proud of you.”

He shuddered against her, his thrusts speeding up with every word that she whispered, no matter how cheesy it might sound looking back.

“You are _home_. I got you, love”, her lips found the crook of his neck, kissed along the soft skin there, “Let go, Lucifer. You deserve this, you deserve so _much more_. I love you. I got you. _Lucifer.”_

With a hoarse moan that could as well have been a sob he came, shuddering and gasping, arms locked tightly around her as if this was his saving grace. She clung to him, threaded her fingers through his hair, kissing every inch of his skin that she could find as he came down from his high, face buried in the crook of her neck.

***

“Chloe”, he murmured as he pulled away, dazed and exhausted, but he had the ability to make her feel so special, so loved when he said her name, “I love you. I really, really love you.”

“So do I”, she said and his grip tightened with a hum. They would be fine. He was home.

\---

_ 19th of May 2016 _

_Michael swallowed, his fingers playing with the salt shaker, waiting. Since that night in November whatever Eve and him had – the easiness, the joy – it had given way to something awkward and bitter that had lodged itself in his throat. He still continued checking up on her, of course he had, but there was a tension in the atmosphere that had been lacking before. Obviously._

_He sighed, expanded his ribcage as if that could rid him of the feeling of restriction. He should have known better than for their fling to have ended well, hell, he should have known the moment he kissed her, but sometimes denial wasn’t just a river in Egypt._

_Yet the knot in his throat had eased, no, nearly diminished at the success of his search. He had found Sam. He had found him and he wanted to kick himself for being so daft. He didn’t know how he had not managed to think of it before._

I’d rather reign in Hell than serve in Heaven.

_Lucifer. Of course. The devil himself, the fallen angel escaping Heaven’s grip. The Morningstar, powerful and brilliant. Of course, his twin would choose this name. He was an idiot. Michael, that was. How much sooner could he have found him if he hadn’t been that absorbed in all his other problems, in his feelings for Eve and his disappointment? In his wish to keep her just a little longer even though she wasn’t his to begin with._

_For a moment he had hesitated, had wanted to keep Sam to himself, keep_ her _to himself and live in the – admittedly – desperate illusion of him having a home, a place he could go to other than what Caelum offered. He swallowed again. There was another pressure on his chest, one that stemmed neither from Sam nor from Eve, but from the foreboding of something he would be unable to escape once he was caught up in it. But wasn’t he already?_

_But it wouldn’t be fair, not telling her. So here he was, waiting in the café they had had coffee together years ago – just to bask in a few more good memories – waiting for her to sit down opposite of him and for him to tell her he found Samael._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut summary: Very emotional lovemaking^^


	20. The C..

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A last confrontation between Eve and Lucifer and a get-together of two twins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning peeps! 
> 
> First of all - I am aware that Fall on me by Christina Aguilera & A Great Big World is from 2019 - I have decided not to censor the music I put into this series by their release date XD
> 
> Also for all those who have been commenting about the vasectomy - thank you so much for your input and information! It does open a whole new door to possibilities.  
> Yet at the moment Lucifer's infertility is certain - when Caelum wants something done, it will be done and it will be done properly. But there are a lot of avenues open for consideration!
> 
> without further do - let's get to this!

“Lucifer! Have you seen my leather jacket?”

Chloe was at her wit’s end. After having turned over and taken apart her whole apartment it was still missing. She loved the pastel blue hue of the leather. Even though LA would be sweltering, she still didn’t want to leave without it. The suitcase stretched open on her bed, halfway filled with bikinis and linen shirts and a few dresses and pants.

Lucifer chuckled as he stuck his head into the room.

“You will have to specify which one, love. You only have 15 of them.”

She rolled her eyes at him, folding another shirt neatly on top of the other one. All her signature gesture did was to cause the corners of his mouth to quirk up in amusement.

“Which one?”, he grinned at her, propped against the frame and regarded the mess she was standing in right now. Packing turned out to be harder than anticipated. Their flight was still a few days away, but you couldn’t start packing too soon, could you?

“The blue one. Maybe a little grey. I can’t find it.”

His brows furrowed.

“I know which one you mean, yes.”

“I haven’t worn it in quite some time”, she mused, sucking on the inside of her cheek, “Do you think I left it at your apartment before the whole Michael disaster?”

It had only been a few days since everything had untangled, like they finally managed to unravel the Gordian knot. Shadows were still gracing the skin underneath Lucifer’s eyes and there were moments where he would zone out and be lost in his thoughts. All she could do was to warm up water for another cup of his long cold tea and cuddle up at his side, trying to get him to read _Fangirl_ to her again.

A hint of anxiousness hurried across his features as he hummed, his arms crossing in front of his chest.

“You could’ve.”

“I can go check on my own if you want to”, she had abandoned her suitcase on the bed and halted in front of him, her voice gentle as her hands came to rest in his nape, “If you want to avoid seeing her.”

He scoffed at her, dark brows furrowed, “I am hardly a chicken, Detective. I can very well visit my own apartment. I need to tell her to move out anyhow.”

His lips curled in distaste.

“Okay”, Chloe answered easily, her fingers playing with a few strands of hair, “but it’s okay if you don’t want to. You don’t _have_ to.”

“Fret not, love”, he pecked the tip of her nose, causing her to scrunch it, “I am a big devil, I can take care of myself.”

She snorted, pressing a short kiss to his lips, before patting his upper arm.

“Whatever you say, Satan.”

Now it was his turn to roll his eyes, before he pushed himself off the doorframe that he was leaning against.

“We could get on with it, I need to get the rest of my luggage anyway.”

“What, not enough three-piece suits packed yet?”, she called with a smirk.

“Says the person with a litany of sensible brown shoes!”, he shot back, a laugh vibrating in his voice, “And you love me in them, so you don’t get to criticise my three-piece suits.”

“Damn right I do”, she murmured underneath her breath, raking a hand through her strands, “Yes, let’s do it right now, that works better for me anyhow.”

“Right then. Chop, chop. We haven’t got all day, Detective.”

“Yes!”, she grumbled as she made her way through the apartment, “Give me a sec.”

Lucifer had already fetched his keys and dark suit jacket and was patiently waiting for her to tie the laces of one of her _sensible brown shoes_.

“Lead the way, Satan”, she grinned, stretching onto her tip toes to press a kiss to his lips only to swat his butt as he passed her. The affronted expression he sported as he turned around to glare at her had her giggling in delight.

“You will be punished for that, Detective. You can count on that.”

“Oh, what will become of me?”, she teased him in her best British accent that was still horrible, but the exasperation on his face was worth it every time.

“Right, if you continue doing that, maybe a seal, but we don’t have time for language courses. Come on.”

He shooed her out of the flat and down the staircase. It was only when they sat in the subway that he turned towards her with a dead serious expression, looking up from his phone. It had her tilting her head in concern.

“Would you consider taking a language course? Your pronunciation is goddamn awful.”

Still discussing whether a seal could pass as a UK citizen or not they arrived at Y’s Gawen. He held the door open for her, sweeping after her with a spring in his step that had been missing for the last few days. The bar was mellow in the sunlight that fell through the windows close to the ceiling and the grin that spread on Lucifer’s lips had her heart singing. They waved Patrick, who was behind the bar, prepping for the night and serving the one customer they had. Dark curls that faded into grey and a notebook spread open in front of him, he looked like an artist lost in thought. With a few long strides Lucifer was over at the piano, his hand brushing lovingly across its glossy top.

“Oh, my love I have missed you”, he sighed, letting himself fall onto the bench, carefully lifting the lid.

The way his eyes were shining with joy pressed a relieved breath out of Chloe. It was good for to him be like this, like the exuberant man she had fallen in love with again. She hated seeing him as subdued and drained as he was nowadays.

Following him as he started to pluck melodies from the keys she leaned against the piano.

“Well, it seems like I am expandable right now.”

He just flashed her a cheeky grin, his fingers sending the refrain of _Faith_ , the very first song he had played for her, through the room.

“You are never expandable, Detective”, he said, but the way he was mesmerized and getting lost in music said otherwise.

She let out a chuckle. “I will let you two catch up”, she nodded towards the instrument below her, “I’ll get the jacket.”  
  


He nodded, before fishing his keys out of the inside of his suit jacket.

“You do that. You could also stay and join me for a song or two?”

The hopeful expression in his face had her heart melting with adoration and she leaned forward to press a slow kiss to his lips that he chased as she was eventually retreating, plucking the keys from his hands.

“I will do that when I come back down, alright?”

His excited smile said plenty and she pecked his cheek for good measure before she turned to go.

She had nearly reached the back door as his raised voice had her turning around again.

“Send Eve down if you see her, will you?”

She could see his posture tensing from over here, but she could do nothing more but swallow and answer with a “Sure. Will do.” while anger boiled up inside her gut. Good thing she left her Glock at home.

* * *

The keys underneath his fingers were cool and oh how he had missed their magic. It was one of the few things he missed about staying at the Detective’s place. That and the superior booze.

He sighed a breath, his hands faster than his mind as he continued playing, jumping from one song to the other. Tension bled out of his posture and for the first time in days he felt like the cracks in his being had been patched up again. He couldn’t wait to play another song for Chloe, but which one would it be? Something upbeat, light? Or maybe one of those sappy nineties jams she loved? Eternal flame again, maybe?

Even lost in thought he heard the steps vibrating through the bar. He had heard them often enough in his life, but never once had he dreaded them as he did now.

He didn’t look up from the keys, black and white and known in front of him. Could he still play with his eyes closed? Stupid question, of course he could. His gut clenched uncomfortably. Truth to be told he wished she would just turn around and leave again.

The figure halted in front of him, a shaky breath.

“Hey, Lucifer.”

Only then he lifted his gaze to meet hers, his mask had slotted effortlessly into place. Her curls spilled down her figure as they always did, but today they emphasized the darkness underneath her eyes, the paleness of her skin. One hand clutched the other as she waited.

“Eve.”

She swallowed, before cleaning her throat, visibly straightening her spine. As she spoke her voice shook and something cruel inside him smiled in satisfaction.

“I – I wanted to tell you that I have found a job and that I have already moved out. So, you don’t have to worry about anything and – and you know, use your apartment again.”

She did the thing where she emphasized what she was saying with her whole body. He had found it adorable once. Now his eyes itched to be rolled in annoyance.

“Well, then that is a relief and makes this conversation utterly useless. Thank you, Patrick”, he said, taking the tumbler of whiskey out of his hand.

He took a sip, enjoying the sweet aftertaste that mingled with the burning sensation of alcohol, before he set it down on top of the piano and directed his attention back to his previous occupation. He knew a clear sign of dismissal when he sent it. Eve on the other hand was oblivious as ever and it had his jaw clenching in frustration.

“Lucifer, can we talk please?”, she said, inching a bit closer as she leaned forward.

He took a deep breath, his brows furrowed in frustration and he tried to ignore the burn stinging in his chest that had nothing to do with the whiskey.

“You have nothing to say that I would be interested in.”

Never had he needed to put that much effort into sounding nonchalant and unbothered.

“Come on, please. I get it! Sleeping with Michael was a mistake, but – please. Just hear me out.”

Anger lit the alcohol inside his body aflame and he clenched his fingers on the keys into a fist. Trying to maintain his composure he closed his eyes taking a deep breath. That was still his brother she was talking about. His brother that had protected him, again and again - He deserved better than to be a mistake to a woman he had fallen in love with, no matter how much it stung to know it had been Eve. That he had had the privilege to see her, be with her.

The lies, the anger, the betrayal, they coiled his muscles tight, so desperately it took his breath away.

“Eve”, he opened his eyes and lifted his gaze to meet her hopeful expression.

“Yeah?”

His jaw quivered as he swallowed.

“Go to hell.”

He expected it to be cathartic, to resolve one of the knots inside his throat, but instead it hurt. He couldn’t bear the expression on her face as if he had just slammed the door in front of her nose shut and her eyes swam with tears. She blinked rapidly, her body retreating a step.

“What?”

He directed his gaze back to the keys, tried to hide the way they shook.

“You heard me.”

She was breathing shallowly now, the way she did when she started to cry and he tensed in order not to get up and comfort her. His own tears burned in his eyes, but he had learned how to hide his pain early on in his life.

“I – “

A door fell shut and the rhythmic sound of Chloe’s boots echoed through the bar.

“Hey, so it was in your wardrobe”, she said and her voice was salvation, the life line he clung onto. She came closer and a moment later her small and gentle hands rested on his shoulders, warm and steadying.

“Hey, Eve”, her tone dropped several degrees, but carried still the same politeness it did for everybody.

He swallowed, lifting a hand to hers, gratefully brushing circles onto it as his posture relaxed a little.

“Hey, I – I was just leaving”, Eve pressed out, turned on her heel and hurried to the door, out of Y’s Gawen and out of his life.

He blinked away the moisture in his eyes, focused on how lovely Chloe’s hands felt as they kneaded his taut muscles. Eventually he released a slow breath, shaking his head.

“So – “, his hand left hers as he trailed off.

“So”, she said, voice warm and deliberately light, “I believed I was promised a song or two?”

At that he smiled, relief rushing through him as his fingers found the keys again and he let _Africa_ glide through the room. Toto had done great work on that one. Her shoulder nudged his as she was swaying to the rhythm completely ignoring the fact that a ¾ beat was the only one one swayed to. It was adorable anyhow.

“I have been thinking”, he began as he thought of what to play next.

“That is a dangerous venue, Mr. Morningstar”, she teased him and he huffed a laugh.

“I asked Michael to meet me here tomorrow. So we can – “, he swallowed, “Catch up.”

Or talk to each other again, whatever you wanted to call it.

“Oh”, she hummed, nodding, “Do you want me be there?”

It was such an open and nonjudgmental question, he could’ve kissed her, he should kiss her. With a forming smile he turned and leaned down, his palms cradling her face and his lips capturing hers in a passionate kiss. The sound it elicited from her had his blood singing and his body leaned into her warmth, craving to be closer. With a last nudge of his lips, and oh hers were so soft, he could melt into them, he separated himself from her.

Her eyes blinked open, wide and so perfectly adorable.

“What was that for?”

He grinned down at her as she nestled herself into his side.

“For you being incredible, Detective.”

Her lips spread into a smile and she laughed, affection glowing in her gaze.

“You are ridiculous.”

“But you love it”, he quipped, the keys accompanying his hummed _I don’t like it, you know I love it._

She giggled, shaking her head, “I do.”

\---

His fingers were drumming a little beat against the outside of his tumbler, a little clink sounding every time his ring met glass. The air tasted of smoke and alcohol, burnt and sterile on his tongue. His heart was beating steadily, if too fast against his ribcage and he was dodging Maze’s hungry gaze. She had perked up as soon as she had heard of Michael coming over, licking her painted lips in anticipation.

 _Twins,_ she had hummed and Lucifer had drawn a disgusted grimace. He was a very carnal being and even if he hadn’t been in a monogamous relationship, he would have shuddered at the very thought. Because – no, thank you.

“Got a date?”, a warm voice asked as the body belonging to it brushed past him and a smile spread on Lucifer’s lips.

“Not exactly, padre.”

He turned to meet Frank, the musician that had graced the bar with his presence ever so often since Eve had come back. The Black man rolled his eyes with an amused twist of his lips.

“I told you, I haven’t been a priest in a _long_ time.”

“Right”, he scoffed, smirking, “Your choice of bling says otherwise.”

Frank laughed, tossing back what was left of Lucifer’s scotch only to hand him the empty glass back.

“Being a believer doesn’t make me a priest.”

“Mhm, right”, he held the glass out for Patrick to refill, his elbow leaning against the counter with his back towards the door to face his friend. The amber liquid fell in mesmerizing gulps into the tumbler.

“So”, he raised his voice, his dark skin growing even a shade darker, yet warmer in the dim light. “Who are you waiting for?”

His tongue ran along the inside of his teeth as he exhaled a slow breath through his nose.

“My brother.”

“Oh, older or younger?”

The corners of his lips tugged up in pride. He had never and would never let Michael live it down -

“Four minutes younger to be exact.”

“A twin?”, Frank said, his teeth pearly as he laughed and his eyes sparkling with mirth as he gestured at a spot behind Lucifer, “I think he just walked in, my friend.”

“Hm?”

He whirled around, just to catch Michael halting at the bottom of the stairs, his gaze searching the crowd for him. He huffed a tense breath, patting onto the counter with his ringed hand.

“Patrick, another scotch, please, you are a darling.”

“Well, I better collect Little Red Riding Hood before he gets lost on the way. I will see you around, padre”, with a wink he patted the man’s shoulder.

Frank just chuckled with a shake of his head, nodding to tell him goodbye, “I will see you, Lucifer.”

With that he collected the two tumblers with a fluent motion of the countertop and made his way through the crowded bar, weaseling through the litany of people laughing and talking in animated chatter to drown out the others.

“Mickey”, Lucifer called, a few steps away from his brother and nearly snorted a laugh at the resigned way he tilted his head to glare at the ceiling.

“Don’t, Sammy”, he groaned loudly as he turned around, but the twitch of his lips betrayed him anyhow.

For a split second Lucifer didn’t know what to say, his lungs stinging at how much it was like back when they had hung around each other’s room, bantering in one go. He tore himself out of his daze and held the tumbler out for him to take.

A grateful nod and Michael cradled his glass in hands wrapped in leather. Lucifer cleared his throat to overplay the shudder that crawled along his spine to nestle between his scars, making a sweeping gesture to guide him towards a table.

“Shall we?”

“Fair enough”, Michael said with a little forced smile and they made their way through the crowd that parted like the sea for Moses as the patrons ogled at them. Lucifer kept his gaze on his brother’s back, the black fabric of his dress shirt was loose between his shoulder blades. At least he did wear something proper. The soles of his shoes were sticking slightly as they went on. Drunk people didn’t know how to keep liquids in their glasses, it was a shame really.

They finally found a table in the back, the chatter subdued as if a thick velvet curtain had been drawn up between them and the rest of the bar. Michael had slid onto the bench, while Lucifer took a seat opposite of him, twisting his tumbler in his hands, watching the liquid swirl in circles the way water did when it was rushing down the drain. The glass was damp and cold up to where the liquid reached.

“So”, Michael took a sip of his drink, swallowed, “this is where you work?”

Pushing his tongue into the corner of his cheek he nodded.

“I know, not so different from what I did before”, he shrugged, a weak smirk on his face, “pour people a drink, pour myself a drink, make conversation and threaten to hurt them should they not behave. It’s all the same.”

His brother choked on the sip of scotch.

“Yeah”, he coughed, “absolutely the same, Sam.”

Lucifer grinned as his brother blinked the moisture in his eyes away, “I know, right? I also happen to live here – well, now again after Eve has found her own place.”

He lifted his tumbler up to drain it. He really didn’t want to think about that woman anymore.

_What else did I lie to you about?_

“She’s lived with you?”, Michael’s forehead creased in suspicion.

“No, rather _in_ my apartment instead of me, but that’s history now.”

The man in front of him huffed a breath through his nose. Lucifer lifted his eyes to regard him.

“I am sorry, Sam. For not telling you, but-“

“It’s fine”, he cut in, “While the original mess was our family’s fault, this with Eve? That’s on her.”

And he wanted to hate her for it. Michael opened his mouth to interrupt him, but he held up his hand.

“No, Michael. The _audacity_ of her to – to come here, come back into my life, lie to me and then use the person that protected her? That _is_ on her.”

“I know.” His voice was thick and something bitter hid in it. Lucifer’s lungs trembled as he continued, his tongue desperately trying to form the words that had rested on it for a few days now.

“I haven’t – I haven’t thanked you yet for saving her. And –“, he shook his head, searching the other’s gaze, “ _thank you, brother._ I don’t think that I could ever repay you for that.”

Michael’s expression was a little woeful, “You don’t owe me, Sam. This was on Uriel and his minions. And what can I say? You protected me for so long and I didn’t know – “

“Don’t mention it. What’s done is done.”

“Then the same is true for me. What is done is done.”

They reached for their glasses, raising it to drink, only for Lucifer to pause in frustration. It was empty. Bloody marvelous. He let it clank back onto the table’s plate. For a moment silence hung above them but it wasn’t the tense one that had enveloped them before, but a calm one that let him catch his breath. The partially healed wound of his heart had been torn open again and was now up at the air, stinging and burning when he moved.

“Say, have you seen a movie called _Wreck it Ralph_?”, his brother suddenly said and Lucifer snorted a laugh.

“Brother, there is little I haven’t seen when it comes to Disney movies. The spawn adores them. So yes, of course I have seen that tosser wreaking havoc over that sticky pink well of cavities. And don’t get me started on the villain.”

“It was too obvious that the king was the other evil bastard, right?”

“Abso-bloody-lutely. I mean, come on. The only said the name _Turbo_ , what? Twenty times?”

Michael grinned at him and Lucifer could only shake his head. One should look at them, two grown men in a bar, having nothing else but Disney movies to talk about.

“So, the child”, Michael said slowly, carefully as if to gauche his reaction. Lucifer narrowed his eyes nearly imperceptibly at him, “She is your girlfriend’s daughter? Detective Decker?”

“Yes, she is. The detective is coming over later on anyhow.”

At Michael’s puzzled gaze, he added, “Chloe. It’s”, he made a dismissive gesture, “a term of endearment.”

“You seem to care a big deal about the little one. I mean you always were against the idea of “human procreation””, he crooked his fingers to form quotation marks.

“Well”, Lucifer leaned forward, “I am older now, so that is that and Beatrice is – “, oh, he was getting so soft, “she is fierce for her eight years. A clever hellion that one, I have to say. Knows how to strike a mean deal, but what can I say, she learned from the best. But I swear-“

Michael cocked his head with a little amused quirk of his lips.

“-if I hear somebody say _Golden Retriever_ again, I am going to shoot somebody.”

His brother barked a laugh, his head thrown back into his neck before he hunched over.

“It’s not funny if you have to listen to a whole essay on why she wants one at least ten bloody times a day.”

“You poor thing”, Michael was still giggling, eyes twinkling with mirth. Lucifer rolled his eyes, turning to raise his tumbler to get Maze to bring the whole bottle, when someone let themself sink onto the bench of the beloved Steinway, the glass in their hand swaying dangerously.

“OI!”

Lucifer’s veins trembled in sheer horror as the person yelped and jumped to its feet, spilling splatters of the sticky concoction of juice and high content alcohol onto the floor.

“Sod off from there, you imbecile! That’s a piano not a park bench!”

Michael ducked his head between his shoulders as if scolded, while Lucifer glared at the man that was disappearing into the crowd. With a learned precision his eyes roved over the black gloss, making sure nothing had stained his precious love. Nobody touched the piano without spoken permission of one of the bartenders – it was an unspoken rule since Lucifer had started working and entertaining the crowd. Bloody idiot.

“That’s yours then, I take it?”, his brother’s voice pulled him out of his meticulous observation.

There was something hidden in his eyes, something wistful and longing.

“Could as well be”, Lucifer nodded, an affectionate glance towards the instrument, before turning back, “Do you still play?”

His twin’s mouth opened slightly, gaping and struggling for words as it was opening and closing helplessly. Lucifer raised his brows expectantly. For all the emotions his brother felt he could be incredibly emotionally constipated at times.

“Yes, a little”, he eventually managed to say, before tossing down the last bit of scotch as if it was some cheap rotgut they would toss down just to get hammered as quickly as possible the first time they had gotten a weekend off during the Recruitment. No taste, that prick. Neither in style nor in liquor.

“Marvelous!”, clapping his hands together in excitement he got up, “Let’s play then!”

Michael sighed, but rose to his feet nevertheless as if he had already given up a fight he knew he couldn’t win as Lucifer had already taken a few swift strides towards the Steinway.

“Reminds me of back then when you would _whine_ the whole, bloody day, just because father wouldn’t let you play the piano.”

Lucifer tensed despite the teasing tone, trying to ignore the indignation that lit up inside him, but failing miserably. His father had always tried to take away the one thing he enjoyed, that he loved to deprive him of it. But then again, he had always gotten off on control.

“Well, _Dad_ , the bastard, always enjoyed taunting me with what I couldn’t have, didn’t he? First playing, then Mum”, he scoffed, letting himself fall onto the little bench, shuffling as far to the right as he could. His fingers flipped the lid open as if it was only an afterthought, not a conscious decision, while Michael came to hover at the side of the instrument

“I talked to Mum, by the way”, he said, flexing his hands as he mused over what to play.

“Really? How is she?”

His brother nodded towards Maze as she let the bottle drop onto the lid with a thump that was a little too forceful for Lucifer’s liking.

“Thank you.” “ _Mazikeen!”_

Her dark eyes narrowed to slits as her gaze roved between them. She leaned against the piano, propped on her hands like a predator ready to strike. She cocked her head looking at Lucifer, who only raised his brows, kindly telling her to fuck off.

She shook her head, with a growl close to _“unbelievable”_ before sweetly smiling at Michael with a faked, “You are so welcome!” before she turned on her heel, but not without shoving her middle finger right in his face, before leaving. He shook his head.

“Love you too, Maze!”, he called over his shoulder, smirking as a “Fuck you!”, sounded through the never waning chatter of the filled bar.

Michael stared at him with his eyebrows raised and his mouth slightly agape.

“What on earth was that?”

Lucifer snorted, looking up to him with a sigh.

“Maze – it’s… maybe it’s better if you don’t ask.”

“Ah, fair enough”, he mused, reaching for the scotch, “How is Mum doing now?”

“Ah, fine I suppose. It was a rather –“, he hesitated, fingers brushing along his keys, “a rather particular situation.”

He saw Michael pausing from the corner of his eyes, scrutinizing him and his skin heated up under his gaze, “Well, what are you waiting for, brother?”

He raised his voice to a joyful tone and patted the bench next to him, “Sit.”

His brother shook his head with a fond smile, “Stubborn as ever.”

“You mean strong willed.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Sammy.”

He carefully sank down next to him on the bench and something hard and knotted and tense in Lucifer eased. The breath he drew was so liberated he had forgotten how it felt, how familiar, how right.

“Right, so”, his hands slapped his thighs, “What do we play?”

Michael shifted uncomfortably next to him, his gloved fingers clenching desperately. He couldn’t play very well with those on, but Lucifer was sure he knew that.

“Ah, no idea. I haven’t practiced in quite some time. Maybe it’s better if you just-“

“Nonsense”, his voice was soft as he nudged his shoulder with his, “I’ll help you out.”

He looked up from his hands, something utterly helpless in his gaze as his hands formed fists only to stretch out his fingers again.

“Mika, nobody here will judge you. I promise. Least of all me. You know that, don’t you?”

Michael heaved a sigh and Lucifer could see his hands trembling as he pulled his leather gloves off. His chest constricted tightly at the mesh of connective tissue that stretched his skin to sit tautly, faded and white scars across his fingers.

With a trembling breath he leaned his side into his brother’s as if that could make up for anything, even though it couldn’t. But he was warm and solid next to him and the full brunt of _Mika_ being here, whole and without loathing in his eyes hit him and left him behind in a daze.

“Right so. The C-“

“I know where the C is, Sam.”

“You were the one telling me you haven’t practiced!”

“Yes, but I know where the bloody _C_ is. I am not that much of an idiot.”

“I never insinuated – I mean, you are, but…”

“Oh, just shut up, you tosser”, Michael shoved his shoulder and Lucifer scoffed in annoyance, even though he couldn’t stop the grin that was spreading across his face.

He crossed his arms in front of his chest as he regarded the unsure fingers that hovered above the keys before he started playing, slow and with deep breaths. Lucifer’s eyes lit up in recognition as he took his place on the upper end of the keys and set in with what would be the lyrics, his hands easily joining his brothers and it felt like they had never played out of tune, had always been this in sync.

“Christina Aguilera?”, he murmured as he played what would be the refrain of _Fall On Me_.

“Shut it and play, Sammy”, Mika huffed without heat and Lucifer snorted and did as he asked him to. Patrons turned their heads towards them, fascinated by the twins that played together as if they hadn’t done anything else their whole lives.

_I close my eyes and I’m seeing you everywhere_

He had seen him in strangers over the years, had seen him in the mirror every day and had tried to avoid his gaze as if it could ignore the fact that his other half had been banned from his life for a long time and from his heart for an even longer one.

_I step outside and I’m breathing you in the air_

Now that he had come back it had seemed like he followed him everywhere and between the fear there had been longing. Longing for his brother, his twin.

_I can feel you’re there._

And now he was here and he was sitting next to him, his shoulder brushing his and it was like a long lost part of him slotted back into place. His fingers played a little less elegantly than his and a concentrated frown graced his forehead, while his tongue was flitting out to wet his lips as he played and Lucifer couldn’t help the little smile that stole itself onto his face as he regarded him from the corner of his eye. He knew Mika caught his gaze as the corners of his mouth quirked up, but he could swear his face softened.

Suddenly it didn’t feel complicated anymore. Forgotten was the looming threat of his family, forgotten was the fear that everything he had built was about to collapse with inviting his brother into his life again. The last tune resounded in the room only to be swallowed by applause and the excited babbling of the crowd. Lucifer grinned at his brother that reciprocated his gesture with a smile and a sweeping gaze through the room.

“You know”, Michael said after a moment, “this place does feel like you.”

Lucifer grimaced.

“Ugh, brother, please. I know we’re handsome, but this feels a little masturbatory, even for me.”

“ _Sam_ ”, the exasperation and unconcealed amusement in his voice was palpable, “I swear, you got stuck somewhere around fifteen in your emotional development.”

“Hm”, he made gleefully while reaching out for his tumbler to refill it, “I do get that a lot, actually.”

Michael just snorted and rolled his eyes. “I wished I could say I am surprised, but I am really not.”

“Shut it and play, brother”, Lucifer winked with a shit eating grin.

And play they did, accompanied by the occasional banter and jab and gulps of scotch in between. The bar was dipped in a haze of alcohol and the brimming sounds of patrons around him. It was like floating underneath the ocean’s surface.

“Remember when we –“, Lucifer started with a grin, reminiscing in the idiocy of two teenagers convinced it would be fine to go swimming in the lake in the forest in early March, but broke off as he caught Chloe pushing her way towards the bar.

“Come on”, he said instead of continuing, pulling his brother up in excitement, before hurrying towards his beloved Detective without checking whether Michael would actually follow him. The tall Latina woman, that was her partner was following her, leaning across the bar to shout something to Maze. Chloe wore the jeans that fit her so very well, her butt firm and round and the blouse she was wearing had him grin in excitement. It was the one he had bought her and it filled him with a sense of pride that she liked it so much she wore it as often as she could.

“Detective!”

His call had people turning their heads in surprised shock, but he payed them no mind as Chloe turned around. Her face lit up with a smile as soon as she saw him. His chest expanded in a satisfied breath and with a few steps he was in front of her and she had slung her arms around him. He answered the hug with enthusiasm, pulling her tightly to him, enjoying her body so close to his until she wiggled with a laugh, asking to be released.

“Hey, there”, she giggled, pecking his lips and he purred in content, “Someone has had quite a bit to drink.”

“Pfsh”, he made, shaking his head in amusement only to pull her closer again, capturing her lips, feeling her giggle through the kiss.

“My brother has always been a happy and clingy drunk”, his brother teased from behind him and Lucifer pulled away from Chloe with an annoyed sigh.

“Well, sometimes”, he added quietly and Lucifer rolled his eyes.

“Thanks for nothing, Michael”, he pouted, his hands slipping down to her waist, unwilling to separate from her any time soon.

“I can see that”, Chloe grinned up at him.

Lucifer turned, arm slung around her to stand next to her.

“Anyhow”, Lucifer cut in, “It is lovely to see you again, Miss Ramirez.”

The dark haired woman turned her head, froze and blinked, before mumbling something under her breath which probably was a _Dios mio._

“Two of you”, her eyes flickered from Mika to him and back, “Well, I was warned, but the resemblance is uncanny.”

“I know”, Lucifer sighed, “it’s the genetics.”

Michael groaned at that, “You’ve got to stop saying that. Michael Johnson, by the way. This lovely chap’s twin.”

“Nice to meet you”, Miss Ramirez said, nodding to him, “Maria Ramirez.”

“The pleasure is all mine.”

“Also”, he turned back to face Chloe, “Miss Decker, I suppose we didn’t get off on the right foot, if I may say so.”

Chloe laughed and Lucifer sighed in happiness because damn him, she was beautiful when she laughed.

“Yes, we did. But call me Chloe, that’s fine. I have heard quite a bit about you.”

Michael grinned, winking at Lucifer.

“Mostly nagging I presume?”

“I – yeah – mostly”, she chuckled and Lucifer huffed, leaning down to whisper in her ear, “You are beautiful, by the way” and enjoyed the way she blushed in the dim lights, leaning closer into his side. Her fingers slid along his spine the way she knew he liked and he shuddered in delight, catching her amused gaze.

“Minx”, he murmured under his breath, his grip squeezing her side and she giggled. Lord, he loved her.

Michael grinned suggestively at him and he just rolled his eyes, burying his nose in Chloe’s hair. She smelled like her shampoo and freshly washed bedsheets. He had never heard of people changing their bed sheets before they went on a vacation, but he found it endearing anyhow.

The evening went on in a carrousel of booze, playing the piano and laughing with Chloe and Mika and he hadn’t had this much fun in a long time. After a while the Detective had come over, softly pecking his lips and telling him she would go up to sleep. He nodded with a dopey smile on his lips, humming against her midriff as he pulled her close to him.

“I will be joining you later, but it will take a while.”

“That’s fine”, she said, voice fond and loving and his heart might have just burst out of his ribcage, “Michael, it has been fun. I am glad we got to do this.”

“I can say the same for you, Chloe”, Michael grinned, actually grinned a loopy smile, but well, he had had his fair share of liquor already too.

“Well then”, she moved to go and Lucifer tightened his grip on her, “Lucifer, you will have to let me go.”

The little fond huff that escaped her was adorable.

“But I like you”, he pouted up at her and her torso shook with laughter.

“You are so hammered – come on”, she gently pried his grip off of her, kissing him as he finally relented.

“Fine. Fine”, he murmured against her lips, “love you, Detective.”

“I love you too, you dork”, she chuckled as they separated, her fingers carding through his hair again, before she finally disappeared in the crowd that was steadily waning. His gaze followed her until he couldn’t see her anymore.

“You have it bad, brother”, Michael teased and he snorted with a smile.

“It’s horrible, I know. I’ll get another drink. What do you want?”

He got to his feet and well if he staggered because his foot got caught up in the bench’s foot, no one would notice, would they?

“Anything is fine with me.”

“Right then”, he patted the top of the piano, grabbing his tumbler, “be right back.”

He made his way through the crowd, enjoying the buzz he had going on, because he couldn’t remember the last time he had let loose without falling into the deep pit of depression.

“Maze”, he called, his chest expanding in a breath as he leaned against the counter, “another one please.”

He slid the glass towards her and she rolled her eyes as she refilled it.

“You might wanna slow down a little.”

He barked a laugh, spreading his arms wide, “Why? I mean look at this, Mazikeen! This is marvelous.”

“Yeah, well.” She rolled her eyes. “Does your brother want another one too?”

His forehead creased in confusion. Didn’t they agree Lucifer would get up to get the next round?

“Michael”, he turned around with a grin, “What are you doing?”

He paused at the trepidation in his brother’s face, his filled glass halfway on its way to his lips.

The other one stared at him, searching for an appropriate answer, before he heaved a sigh, all the tension rushing out of his posture.

“I might need to get going soon, my flight leaves early in the morning.”

He checked his watch. “Or well – in a few hours.”

Lucifer cocked his head as he observed the amber liquid swirling in his glass, the lightness in his limbs vanished as if it had never been there.

“Oh, another vacation?”, he smirked nevertheless, if a little less enthusiastic than before, “Well, where is your journey going?”

“Home.”

Everything froze inside his gut, soared along his veins to the very last bit of his limbs, his nerves were aflame with frost burns.

“Why?”, the word was a pathetic syllable on his lips, “you haven’t – you haven’t been here for long.”

The way Michael was looking at him had his skin crawling in a foreboding he didn’t like at all. His brother’s tongue wetted his lips and his dark eyes reflected the glow of the amber lights attached to the mirror behind Maze.

“God is not doing well.”

His tumbler forcefully came down to the counter with a harsh sound.

“No. Mika, you can’t.”

“I have to, Sam.” “Bullshit” “Maybe I can be the change for once – “ “Stop fucking ...” “ – make things better.” “Dad wanted to do the same thing! You _saw_ how that turned out!”

That shut him up while Lucifer fixed him with a furious glare. Michael’s jaw was set in stone, stubborn as ever that stupid self-sacrificial bastard.

His hands were trembling with _something_ – he didn’t even know what it was anymore, he had lost track of the painful emotions that were coursing through him this week already.

“Excuse me, I’ll be out for a smoke”, he said, clipped and voice level as he shook off the scotch that had spilled across his hand by the force with which he had set his glass down.

Avoiding his brother’s gaze and ignoring his desperate “Samael” he pushed past him, suddenly dangerously sober.

The night’s air hit his face in a cooling rush that yanked him back into reality, his breath deep and yearning to get enough oxygen into his system. It was a mild night, but the difference between the bar and the outside was lovely. He swallowed the growl that rose in his throat and cleared it in a hoarse cough, before reaching for his cigarettes and lighter.

Fuck this. Bloody, fucking fuck this. Why was it that every time something went close to well, some shit happened?

He let himself fall against the wall, arm crossed in front of his body as he had lit up his cigarette and lifted it to his lips, dragging a desperate inhale of nicotine into his lungs. The back of his head bumped against the wall behind him as he blew the smoke in a stream of milky vails. He scrunched his nose at the smell of bile and other pleasantries, but well, what could you expect? His skin felt hot from booze, even though his feet remained steady and the happy buzz had morphed into something darker, something so very familiar. Another drag. Rivulets of burnt nicotine in the night. A drag.

Just as he blew out another exhale, someone came to rest next to him.

“Have a spare?”

Lucifer grunted, fishing the pack out of his pocket to flip it open for his brother. He plucked one from the pack, mumbling a thanks at the lighter he absentmindedly had flicked on for him.

Slipping his cigarettes and lighter back into his slack’s pockets he resumed his ritual, enjoying the calm that slowly and dimly crept along his body.

“I like that brand”, Michael said appreciatively after a while, “Smoked it for a while when we were young.”

A reminiscent smile curled Lucifer’s lips, while his throat closed up.

“I know. Never smoked something else in my life. At least when it comes to cigarettes”, he added after a moment.

His brother huffed. A car rushed past them. The music from inside was so quiet the noise of the city nearly swallowed it. The detective had probably already snitched one of his shirts and was now contently snoring in his wonderful sheets. Another drag.

“Sam…”, his brother trailed off, unable to find what he wanted to say.

Lucifer clenched his jaw, ignoring the rush of cold that settled like lead in his guts.

“I don’t – I bloody hate this.”

Michael huffed a breath.

“You’re not the only one, I can assure you.”

“You can’t”, Lucifer’s tongue was sluggish, “You have seen what has become of Dad once he took over Caelum. And _he_ wanted it to make it more humane.”

The scoff got stuck in his throat. The first time his father had hit him was engraved in his mind in terrifying detail, because _Dad_ had never done that, not once before God had died. The impact of a hand and a stinging in his cheek and his eyes as he gaped with cheeks heating up in humiliation. His father’s cold expression morphing into horror and regret as he cradled his face with the same rough hands that had just hurt him, while he pressed choked kisses to his hair, telling him how sorry he was. That he hadn’t meant it.

“I know, Samael. I know.”

Lucifer lifted his gaze to see Michael staring onto a spot on the opposite side of the street.

“The thing is”, his brother swallowed, his eyes seeing something only they could, “if I didn’t do it? Who should take over then? Uriel? Because we all know Gabriel wouldn’t do it.”

“Shit.”

Uriel would be a disaster, because his cunningness was only surpassed by his cruelty. Fucking sadist.

“Taking the words right out of my mouth, brother.”

They fell quiet again and Lucifer sighed at the sirens of an ambulance in the background. His chest constricted despite the fact that his cigarette was nearly burnt down.

“So, what?”, he swallowed, “You are going back home and that’s it? We hate each other for two decades only to realize it was all bullshit, make up and then you leave again?”

“I – you were the one that left last time!”

“And I had a very, bloody good reason for that”, Lucifer bit out, mellowed by his brother’s sigh.

“Yes, I know. I know.”

Silence hung between them for a while, before Lucifer clenched his jaw and tossed the rest of his cigarette to the ground only to grind the butt out under his sole.

“The thing is, Mika, I am going to be alive for what? Another 30 odd years? This is all we get and you are telling me that – that”, he couldn’t get the words out.

That this night was all they got? That he would be gone from his life again and he would probably never get the chance to smoke a cigarette with him? That they hated each other for the first half of their lives and wouldn’t see each other for the second half of it? That the piece of his heart that had been painfully absent would be ripped from him again?

He caught Michael’s incredulous gaze.

“Sammy, how old do you think we are?”

Lucifer barked a laugh, crossing his arms in front of his chest and turned to face his brother, his shoulder propped against the wall.

“Brother, do you know how much bullshit I’ve put into my body already? Drugs, cigarettes, booze. High stress levels at all times – what do you expect? That I’ll live a gleeful hundred years and then drop dead peacefully in my sleep?”

Michael’s gaze was dark as he held his finger out threateningly. He hadn’t pulled his gloves back on.

“Stop talking like that, you tosser. You’re not –“

A growl left his twin’s lips.

“I need to do this. If anyone can do this, it’s me.”

Lucifer’s lips quirked into a proud smile, despite the fact that his eyes were welling up in face of the injustice of it all.

“Yes. If anyone it could make it out of Caelum unscathed, it’s you. But I hate it anyhow.”

“I know”, Michael scoffed. It sounded wet. “So do I.”

They stayed quiet for a while. Lucifer tried not to think about it, tried to swallow down the knot in his throat.

“I have to leave soon.”

Lucifer nodded, his fingers playing with his lighter in his pocket.

“Right then”, he pushed himself off the wall, “Which airport?”

“JFK International”, the words got lost in the night.

“Well, what are we waiting for then?”

Michael lifted his gaze, not comprehending as he stared at him. “What?”

“Yes, well, the least I can do is to accompany you, don’t I?”


	21. Under an orange glowing sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer accompanies Michael to the airport

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning peeps! 
> 
> This is it - the last chapter of Untangling the knots. (Keep in mind that I have little clue about subway service at night in NYC - especially now that they are closed at night due to Corona. ^^)
> 
> Next chapter is me checking in with you!

The room was dark when Lucifer followed his brother into the hotel room, his head still light from the alcohol in his veins.

He grunted as light flickered on, too aggressive for his eyes as he followed Michael through the tiny living room to what was his bedroom, awkwardly shifting from leg to leg as he pushed the door open and slid inside.

“You don’t have to hover in the doorway like you don’t wanna be there”, his twin teased.

“I don’t hover”, he grumbled, pushing through the door. Michael was in front of his closet, sorting through his shirts, pulling them from the hangers.

Two sides of them were clashing, the familiar one, where he would fling himself onto his brother’s bed, rambling about something, but then again they didn’t do that anymore did they? After all they were nearly in their 40s, not the teenagers they once were.

To be fair, he would’ve flung on probably anyone’s bed, but right now it felt _wrong_. He shuffled towards the end of the mattress anyhow and carefully sank down on it, his hand brushed the wrinkles away that he caused. The material was rough underneath his fingers. How on earth did he sleep in that? His gaze followed his fingers back to Michael, who was quickly and quietly folding his shirts and put them in carefully, but efficiently.

For a moment he wanted to accompany him, to fly back home with him, but it wasn’t _home_ anymore, was it?

But it had been at one point so far back in the past it was nothing more but a distant memory. His father showing them how to play the piano, taking them to the lake to teach them how to skip rocks – the most bloody useless thing he could imagine, but you didn’t mind a whole lot when you were ten, did you? – him sitting cross legged on the floor with them as they played. And at some point the fighting started, the time had begun where he would cover his ears at night, back to back with Mika on the too narrow mattress, where Dad would become distant, even if he had his moments of clarity during which he scooped them up in his arms and told them some hilarious anecdote that _had_ to be made up as far fetched as it was. Until those times stopped too and all he knew was pain and fear and the haze of alcohol and drugs.

And now…

“So”, Lucifer’s voice was hoarse in the small room and Michael lifted his head to look at him, “so, Dad is not doing well?”

For a moment he just stared at him from his kneeling position in front of his suitcase as if he was asking him why he bloody cared and to be honest he didn’t even know why he did. Then he sat back onto his heels, bracing himself for an answer.

“His health has been deteriorating for a while now. Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis. Degradation of his braincells responsible for motor function”, he added at Lucifer’s helpless expression.

“Oh”, he said, nodding, his gaze wandering along the wall behind Michael, past the wardrobe to the mirror that reflected the glaring spot of light of the hanging lamp.

“Yes, well. I haven’t been back home for a while. But Gabriel called me and told me it was getting worse, so head home is what I do.”

Lucifer nodded again, not sure what to say to that, too busy to swallow the lump in his throat.

“Right”, he finally managed, “will you tell me when he’s –?“

“Yeah. If this is that important to you then I will, even if I can’t fathom why.”

If he himself would know why, things would be a whole lot easier, wouldn’t they? But then again, it was still _Dad_ somewhere underneath it all.

Michael threw his suitcase shut, just for a belt buckle to clink and him to shuck the jeans off. He reached for a pair of slacks, obviously from a better material than the trousers before, shoving the other one into his luggage.

"Right, so", he said, "I would take the E line to Sutphin Boulevard or something like that and then change to the Air Train at the Jamaica Station." 

"Alright", Lucifer nodded as Michael zipped his suitcase shut and locked it and he felt bereft. He didn't want him to leave. He really didn't.

„You can’t come the whole way with me”, his voice was apologetic.

“Surveillance, I know.”

His sigh was weary as he stood, his limbs sore and suddenly so tired. Michael regarded him, something haunted on his features.

“We should go”, he rasped, half a smile, and Michael nodded.

Rising to his feet his brother pulled the suitcase up with him, before striding out of the room to check systematically whether he had packed everything.

Lucifer followed him out of the bedroom, the floorboard creaking underneath his feet, his steps dampened by the rug on the floor. Keys clanked as they hit wood and he flinched. Turning he caught his brother’s gaze, the keys for the apartment resting on the small table in the kitchen.

The sound echoed in his ears – a final note in a dim room, the scent of scandal wood still overwhelmingly penetrant in his nose and the sudden urge to leave this dreadful accommodation hit him with a force that had him swallowing down his bile. Grabbing his suitcase’s handle, Michael moved past him readily waiting at the entrance, them both heading down the stairs before the door had fallen shut.

Even the overheated city cooled down as the night had progressed far enough for it to hide in the supposed darkness– not that anything could hide under an orange glowing sky. Lucifer swallowed down the taste of whiskey and nicotine that clung to his gums, his fingers itching to grab another cigarette.

“Onwards then, brother”, he tried to lighten the mood despite how heavy he felt.

“Yes, well”, he sighed, setting down his suitcase, pulling out its handle and Lucifer rolled his eyes.

“Are you going to wake the whole neighbourhood by trolleying that thing down the street like an old lady with her groceries?”

“Stop complaining about Mrs. Maplewood”, Michael chided, “and it’s not that loud, Sam. Stop nagging.”

“ _Stop nagging_ ”, he imitated him and ducked at the hand that flew past his head and he snickered.

“Mika, forget it. I’ve always been faster than you.”

“That’s just because you don’t strike first or use offensive moves. All you do is dodging hits like a coward.”

“Hear, hear”, he snorted, “says the man that beat me like what – twice in his life?”

Michael narrowed his eyes at him and he knew if they hadn’t been on the way to catch his flight he would have halted on the spot.

“Only because I have the decency not to react to a drug haze provoked feud.”

Lucifer shook his head, grimacing slightly, not able to swallow down the heat that rose in his face.

“I still would have kicked your arse, you know.”

“Uhu”, he didn’t even have to look at his twin to know he was rolling his eyes, “Sure. Absolutely.”

“Brother, is this sarcasm I am sensing?”, he mused, “He does evolve!”

“Oh, shut it.”

Lucifer let out an amused breath, fiddling with his phone, sending the Detective a text that he wouldn’t come home before the morning, even though he knew his woman was out like a light already.

An ambulance howled a street further down. They turned left. The wheels of his brother’s suitcase sounded along the pavement. Laughter spilled from somewhere behind them. Lucifer could see Michael yawn from the corner of his eye and it tugged at his heartstrings.

“Feels like an awful lot like back then”, he managed, no very steadily, but nothing seemed very steady right now anyhow.

Liquor still laced his blood and the air – no where as clear as back in Wales – cool on his skin as they wandered along a road, only that this time it didn’t lead back home.

“It does”, Mika said, swallowed. Yawned again. “I am knackered though.”

“You are getting old, brother.”

His hands got shoved into his slack’s pockets.

“Again – we were literally born within an interval of five bloody minutes, Sam.”

“It’s all about the mindset, Mika, all about the mindset.”

“Have I told you that you are insufferable lately?”

“I am sure you have at some point”, he shrugged, skipped a step to avoid the litter on the ground.

“You are insufferable, Samael.”

“You wound me.”

“Do I?”

Lucifer snickered, shaking his head in amusement. “No, you don’t.”

Michael huffed a laugh, catching up with a few long strides. Their focus lay on the group of chittering and noisy young adults on the other side of the street, a man - hardly a man yet -winding his arm around his girlfriend’s shoulders, pulling her close to press a kiss to her temple.

“Chloe is nice”, Michael said out of the blue and Lucifer couldn’t help the smile that found its way onto his lips, because that was the understatement of the century. She was perfect. Snore and workaholic and all.

“That she is”, he said instead, “I got lucky with her.”

His brother nodded absentmindedly. “You did. For what it’s worth, I think she’s better for you than Eve.”

Something bitter that didn’t stem from nicotine danced along his throat. He snorted.

“Nice try, brother. Still trying to –“

“I am not”, he interrupted him, not as angry as Lucifer would have thought he would be, “I am not trying to get together with her. It would never work out the way I would want it to. Besides…”, he let out a sigh, “let’s be honest, Sam. She deserves better than any of us. Better than our mess.”

Lucifer glanced at him. The truth was always a hard pill to swallow, but he couldn’t help but agree with him. She deserved someone who took care of her the way she had relentlessly taken care of him in all those years. She deserved better than to live in the shadows of Caelum.

“I suppose she does”, he said, voice hoarse in the night.

His brother’s brows were furrowed as if he was contemplating something, tongue flitting out to wet his tongue. Lucifer glanced at him again, careful not to run into a hydrant.

“I”, Michael let out a little self-depreciating laugh, “I don’t think love is in the cards for me. I mean, no one should have to be dragged into my mess.”

Lucifer huffed. “That’s an awfully heroic intention, brother. My therapist would say you have deeper lying issues with your self-worth.”

“Gee, thanks. I am feeling much better now.”

“Not finished”, Lucifer quipped back.

“What? Are you going to tell me that my problems stem from Daddy issues?”

Lucifer barked out a laugh, glee bursting in his chest.

“Where has that humor of yours been hiding, brother?”, Michael only shrugged with a smirk – a genuine, amused smirk.

“Ahh, good old Daddy issues. No, what I was trying to tell you is that our brains are right old bastards. Trying to tell you you are not worthy of love and no one could ever feel that way for you and all that”, he gestured at him, “Well, it’s bullshit. Because you are more than worthy of love, believe me. And for what it’s worth –“, the words got stuck on his tongue, his heart tumbling in his chest.

I do love you, brother.

Michael looked at him, a small, wistful smile on his lips, “Since when have you been on the side of optimism?”

He found his tongue again as they arrived at the underground station. His brother lifted his suitcase down the stairs as they made their way down under the earth.

“Realism, Michael. But well, after four years in therapy I had to learn something at least.”

His voice echoed from the walls

“Yes, well. I wouldn’t surprised if you –“

“Oh shut it.”

Michael snickered, before they eventually arrived at the underground platform. Five minutes, the display said. Lucifer scrunched his nose at the smile, while his brother fiddled with his phone.

“You know”, he said casually, “I liquidized your part of the family business. Mailed you the access, but please don’t spend it all at once. Even I can’t explain away a bought private jet without a private jet.”

Lucifer froze, turned and gaped at him.

“You did what?”

“Liquidized your part of Caelum.”

“Yes, no I got that”, he made a dismissive gesture, “but am I understanding that correctly? You are literally just handing me a part of what is soon going to be your empire?”

“Yes, well”, Michael huffed, “it’s not like I asked for it. Also, I couldn’t even spend that much money if I wanted to, so just shut up and take it. Take the child to Disneyland or something. Just – “

“Not something too big to sweep under the rug, I understand.”

He eyed his brother from the corner of his eye, “Mika, I –“

“Don’t mention it. It’s fine, Sammy”, he sent him a smile and it was impossible for him not to reciprocate it.

They had found a seat – no wonder, 3:30 am wasn’t rush hour – the trolley swayed between Michael’s legs that bracketed it, before he stilled its movements. The rattling of the underground melted into a steady background noise, but his body was alive with nervous energy that had him fiddling with the ring he had gotten from Michael he couldn’t remember when – was it for his birthday? It had been sometime before the fateful week of the Recruitment, he was sure of it. He hadn’t taken it off once, not even when he had hated Michael’s stupid face with all his might.

His brother had fallen quiet next to him, his shoulder leaning into his, but it had always been like this. While Lucifer could go all night, Michael would dose off throughout the evening. He would miss this, bloody hell, he had missed this. The easy rapport between them, just his brother’s presence in his life, without the drama, without the pain. But it was too much to ask for, wasn’t it? Because _Heaven_ had yet to destroy the few good things he had had in his life. It had torn apart his relationship to Eve, them being ripped apart only for time and distance and heart ache to drive a wedge between them. To his mother that he had missed so very much, because she was driven away from her family. To Rae-Rae, who suddenly had grown into this woman, with a life, with a family of her own. His little angel of death that had spread her wings. He heaved a sigh at the fact that he wouldn’t be part of her life anymore.

To Michael, to his other half that he had just gotten back, but no, their family had to be a fuck up and take each other away from them.

He had sworn himself to keep his detective and the urchin away from the chaos and destruction his past sowed. He hadn’t been able to protect anybody from _Heaven_ , but he would be damned if he would let it hurt them. He would not let the darkness taint them. He would protect them, even if it was the last thing he did in his life.

A weight on his shoulder had him snap out of his thoughts, his figure mirrored in the window opposite of him, a head resting on his shoulder. He pulled back his head to take in his brother’s sleeping form – the tosser had actually nodded off. He scoffed, the corner of his mouth tugging upwards, his heart a size too big and a pound too heavy for his chest. The fact that Mika had not only forgiven him, but also trusted him enough to fall asleep at his side, trusting him to watch his six, had his throat closing up.

Huffing a little bitter breath he let his cheek carefully come to rest on his twin’s crown. The short hair tickled his skin and the smell of smoke and bar still clung to it. The familiarity of the gesture had his eyes stinging, even though he blinked away the moisture in them. They had been a package deal ever since – had been a package deal until the Recruitment, until Dad had become abusive and he had turned to drugs and alcohol. He tried to cling to this moment and commit it to mind.

He just wished he had more time, that his departure hadn’t been as abrupt as it was. Why had it to be Michael? He understood that Uriel would be a disaster, but why did it have to be his twin? He didn’t even want to be a part of Caelum anymore – it was glaringly obvious. Lucifer got it. The desire to escape had always been present in him, but he knew that it seemed like now was the last chance to leave, before the sand in the hourglass had progressed too far. There had to be a way to get him out, there was always a way. His teeth gnawed at the inside of his cheeks as the gears in his head turned, only disturbed by Mika’s quiet sniffle as he readjusted his head on his shoulder.

Faking his death wouldn’t work, not again and having Caelum as your enemy was not fun, in no way. He was surprised he hadn’t been captured after his disappearance to New York. Maybe God hadn’t cared about him anyhow. Straightening his spine, his cheek brushed across his brother’s hair. He needed to protect him, but what flimsy protection could he provide? It wasn’t like …

The NYPD. There were programs for past members of mobs and the mafia for them to be hidden and protected in exchange for sensitive information. Witness protection. If Michael would be willing to provide intel on Caelum he could be protected, he could escape Heaven. That was it! His eyes that had been growing a little tired lit up at his epiphany, a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. He had figured it out. It was genius. And even though he would have to keep his distance for a while, Michael would have the chance to have a normal life, one of his own and he would be able to see him. His heart was pounding in excitement, his head dizzy with relief. He wouldn’t lose Michael. He wouldn’t let something get between them again.

“Not today, brother”, he whispered, “Not today.”

The underground rattled contently on through the night and with a smile Lucifer basked in the knowledge that he could prevent the inevitable – well, he had always been the one the face the impossible and achieve it, hadn’t he? But for now he would let his brother have his mid-nightly nap.

He nudged his twin awake shortly before they had to get off the underground, leaving at the Jamaica Station. New York City never slept, but right now it dozed lazily in the too early morning hours. The voices of the few people were hushed and echoed through the station, bled into the background as he bounced on the balls of his feet, while Michael scrunched his nose sleepily.

“How are you so cheery all of the sudden?” He sounded slightly grumpy as he dragged his suitcase after him. “Keen to be rid of me again?”

“What – no”, he scoffed and turned swiftly to face him, “I have figured it out, brother.”

Michael blinked at him, clearly not comprehending.

“Figured what out?”

“A way for you”, he gave his shoulder a jaunty pat, “not having to go back home, dearest twin.”

He paused in his steps, his brows drawing further and further in. If he continued to do that he would get wrinkles on their stunning face a lot sooner than he should.

“What are you playing at, Sam? I need to go back, you know that.”

“Not if you enter a witness protection program, Mika”, he grinned, hands shoved into his pockets as he stared at him expectantly.

“A…”, he trailed off, his expression going through the motions. From disbelieve, to fondness, to exhilaration, wistfulness and eventually it settled on something painful. Why…?

“Brother?”, Lucifer’s voice wobbled in confusion. It was a marvelous idea, why wasn’t he excited about it?

Michael let go of his suitcase’s handle and made a step closer towards Lucifer.

“Sam, I cannot tell you how much this means to me”, he said and there was something final in his voice that scared him to the bone, “that you are trying to find a way for me to get out, to stay, but-“

“It’s a good idea, isn’t it?”, suddenly he wasn’t so sure about it anymore, but Michael smiled.

“That’s a bloody solid idea, Sam. But-”, he sighed.

“You are not going to do it.”

He hated how hollow his voice sounded and he swallowed as Michael nodded.

“I am not. Believe me, Sammy, I want to – there is nothing I would want more, but if I don’t go back and Uriel becomes the next God, it would be disastrous. I _need_ to go back. There is no other way.”

Was he bloody serious?

“There is always another way, right now there is literally another choice!”

He was gesturing agitatedly, trying to keep his voice down.

“There is, but it is not an option for me and you know that.”

“Yes, because you are just a … a … a stupid idiot, brother”, he bit out, “Why are you not – I don’t understand. I mean, I do, but….”

“Samael”, Michael sounded as torn as him, “Please, I need to go back.”

_Please let me go._

Lucifer’s gaze roved over his twin’s form, his eyes stung. The very same eyes looked back at him, plead with him and with a shaky breath he nodded. And nodded again.

“I… alright.”, the word was a mere whisper in a too silent area, but the grateful expression on Mika’s face made the heartbreak nearly worth it.

“Come here, you tosser”, his brother mumbled, opened his arms and pulled him into an embrace.

Lucifer went readily, his arms encircling him as he clung to his brother. He still smelled like smoke and alcohol, his cologne faintly tickling his nose. He hated this, oh how he hated this. instead he tightened his grip, tried to freeze time even though he couldn’t. He just felt so helpless, so powerless and he abhorred it.

“If there’s ever anything you need”, he said, blinking away the moisture in his eyes, “if something goes wrong and you ever need my help, just let me know, alright? I will be over as soon as I can.”

He felt Michael shake his head against his, his hands on his upper arms and he pushed him away from him with a dead serious expression. His gaze searched his and his hands found his face and he held it, shaking his head.

“Sam, no. I – You don’t know how much this means to me, but you have a _family_ , brother. Our lives are fucked up enough already. Mine is and yours is, but you got out. You need to take care of them first. I will be fine. I am not the helpless boy from back then. I will be just fine.”

His breath came in painful huffs, because he _knew_ that, he _knew._ What was he supposed to do? Just leave him hanging when he needed him? He wouldn’t risk Chloe, neither the urchin, he couldn’t but it wasn’t fair to Mika either, was it? He couldn’t just _abandon_ him.

As if he had sensed his apprehension, because of course he had, his grip on his cheeks tightened.

“Promise me you will not look for me if you hear something. _Promise me_ , Samael.”

Lucifer choked on his snort.

“Yes, _commander._ ”

His voice dripped with cynicism and heart ache.

“Samael.”

“ _Bastard_ ”, he grumbled under his breath – he knew him way too well – but swallowed anyhow, “I promise I will not come and find you. I promise I will not look for you or come back home should I hear of difficulties in Heaven. _I promise_ , Mika.”

His eyes welled up again and his heart tried to retreat deep into the depths of his ribcage as his brother smiled through the tears that welled up in his eyes.

“ _Thank you_ , brother.”

Lucifer huffed, but it swam in his throat as he blinked to keep his sight from blurring. He _didn’t_ want him to go, he couldn’t –

“I-“, he began, but his lips quivered with a harsh breath and Michael’s hands left his face only for him to cling to him once more. A final time.

“I am going to miss you, Sammy”, he whispered, words small.

Lucifer nodded, managing a sniff and a pathetic, “Me too. A bloody lot.”

For a moment they just stood, chins resting on each other’s shoulders, before Michael pulled away.

“I need to go.”

Lucifer nodded and took a step back, his hands slipping into his pockets in order to regain his composure.

“Right. Well then, brother. Have a safe trip and all that.”

“Thank you. Tell your Detective goodbye from me.”

“Will do”, he nodded as his twin grasped the handle of his suitcase and with a last moment of hesitation he turned to go, a hand patting his shoulder a last time. Lucifer couldn’t bring himself to turn and watch him walk away.

The sound of trolley wheels moved away from him, taking his twin with him across the station and probably soon across the ocean.

“Brother!”, he raised his voice, turning despite himself. Michael halted. “How did you find me anyhow?”

He could hear Mika’s chuckle from where he was standing and he looked over his shoulder.

“ _I’d rather reign in hell than serve in heaven?_ Well, I suppose I am off to reign Heaven now.”

Lucifer couldn’t stop the grin that was creeping up his lips as he shook his head.

“You are such a tosser, brother.”

The suitcase soldiered on, following Michael’s lead.

“Shut it, you idiot!”

\---

The sun was creeping through the milky window in the staircase as he willed his feet to move through the daze of wistfulness. The ugly tiles of the floor shone in pale morning light, something clean and fresh. Lucifer could really do with a shower. He dragged his tired body up to his apartment door, his hands patting his trousers for his keys. Whether Chloe was awake yet? He knew his detective, so she probably was, but he was sure he could persuade her into laying down with him again, just for him to hold her before she was heading to some crime scene.

The jingle of his keys was loud in the early silence as he opened his door, finally having it made home. He was too old for an all-nighter. He tossed his keys onto the sideboard in the hallway, toed of his shoes and tugged his shirt out of his trousers.

The coffeemaker was contently gurling in the kitchen, the scent of ground beans lingering in the fresh air. The window in the living room had to be open. Chloe was humming something under her breath and he could picture her, swaying her hips in a goofy little dance only clad in panties and one of his shirts.

A small smile spread on his lips, despite how heavy his lids felt. He shrugged off his jacket and let it fall into a heap on the side, before he made his way through the doorway and the living room, the floor under his feet creaking.

His incredible Detective turned around, her hair a little mussed from sleep, but no less beautiful.

“There you are”, she said with a gentle smile, her eyes crinkling with happiness, “I was convinced I would need to come down in an hour and shake the two of you awake.”

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head as his heart filled up to the brim with longing and love. She set down the cup she was holding as he came closer, winding his arms around her. One came up to cradle her head, while the other held her flush to him. He basked in the way she fit so very perfectly in the gaps his body formed, her warmth, the embrace of her arms around him. He buried his nose in her hair.

“Everything okay? Lucifer?”

He breathed her in, the scent of his sheets and sleep along with a bit of smoke that shampoo had tried to get rid of. The coffee machine was still gurgling in the background, a rhythmic sound belonging to a steady stream of dark liquid. His lips pressed a kiss to her temple.

“I am okay now”, he said, “I am home.”


	22. What now?

My dear peeps.

First of all - thank you. I cannot say thank you enough for your kudos and reads and bookmarks and comments - without you this story wouldn’t be what it eventually turned out to be.

Truth to be told, I am not used to having a community like this - that comments and supports and proof reads chapters, people who provide me with information and who nudge me in the right direction.

As someone who started out on Wattpad I was used to receiving likes and comments sparingly, if I even did - mostly due to the fact that I uploaded German works, but still.

I cannot stress this enough. I appreciate you peeps. I read every comment with a smile on my face, excited to connect with you and get back to you. I find familiar faces - those of you who leave a comment at nearly every chapter - between them and I adore that to be honest. It’s incredible. _We are incredible ; )_

So - what now?

Fret not! The journey doesn’t end here - I find it impossible myself to let those characters go just yet. I will take a short break from posting regularly just because I find myself a little overwhelmed now that university starts again. I have gotten started on _Let the ocean set you free,_ but I do want to see where I wanna got with the story first, before I start uploading!

My plan is to upload:

  * _It’s not paradise._ (An OS that is already finished and that I’ll probably up load some time today)
  * _Let the ocean set you free._ (Lucifer and Chloe’s vacation)
  * A look into Lucifer’s past with Caelum (probably a longer story too)
  * Maze’s story
  * A piece out of Eve’s PoV
  * Lucifer regaining his fertility - but I will have to do extensive research on it! So that’s that^^
  * A litany of OS that you peeps have been asking for in the comments! (Like a OS with Michael as the hero as a request by Prismae or Michael’s first meeting with Lucifer in NYC from Michael’s PoV as requested by Patricia)



So I want to ask you:

**What do you desire?**

If you have any ideas in general or requests for OS - just let me know in the comments and I will try my best to make your idea come true!

So for now - peeps, I am honoured to write and upload my stories for such an amazing audience, that has my back and cheers me on!

Sending my love for you out to every single one of you - to Heaven’s borders and back to hell!

ESH


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